


Conversion

by Oldine



Series: Birches Grow [29]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 35,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldine/pseuds/Oldine
Summary: Complete first novella for a new series. The Torchwood network investigates an unusual medical problem near Chicago and dissolving garbage in an area landfill. They find a connection on the other side of the world. It leads to a potential bioweapon affecting people in multiple countries.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Birches Grow [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/660878
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To avoid any confusion, Jerard Sarkisian flirts to manipulate people. Some good. Some bad. It doesn't mean he's romantically interested in the person.

**Decommissioned Prison; Lyric Valley, Illinois, USA**

**Tuesday, January 28, 2022**

Jerard Sarkisian sat at his desk drinking coffee and reviewing details of horrible experiments run in his makeshift home before he was born. Even by Torchwood black ops standards it was a house of horrors. Living there alone made it worse. His missed Keara. She nicknamed it Frankenstein’s lair without realizing how right she was.

The computer chimed. He clicked the notification icon and smiled. Keara was clueless about science, but she tried. _Why can’t Dallol in Ethiopia support any kind of life?_ He had no idea. A quick Internet search told him it was Hell on Earth with a combination of extremes. The puzzle guaranteed a distraction from reviewing research files.

_When are you coming to visit, Fraulein Igor? Valentine’s Day is next month. We could tour a Chicago museum and discuss our chemistry over dinner. Video chat later, mon cherie._

Sending it amused him. Jerard pictured her flustered expression as she tried to figure out how to respond. While it guaranteed a platonic date, if he could talk her into it, he enjoyed her company. She was unique.

It reminded him he needed to email his cousin’s fiancee. They were getting married soon. While the chaos in Canada had calmed down, it was still overwhelming at times. Planning a wedding with the chaos and security concerns added to it.

_Paris, mon cheri. The art, history, architecture are magnifique. One last fling before it’s too late?_

The computer chimed. Jerard clicked the email notification expecting an angry message from his cousin. Different relative, he thought, reading the the video chat request in French. Before he could respond to his daughter, a security notification appeared on the screen.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Jerard murmured in French as he clicked it.

The facility monitored law enforcement and several government agencies. The system flagged key words in a 911 call and subsequent police communications. Neither applied to the situation, but the chemistry puzzle intrigued him.

Why is someone playing with garbage? Dissolving trash in a landfill had no strategic value. While it could be a weapon test, he doubted it. Badly thought out research seemed more likely. Extreme environmentalists, like any extremists, weren’t known for their rationale. If it was intentional. Throwing out alien technology was not the strangest possibility he considered since he first learned about Torchwood.

Jerard briefly considered contacting his cousins for drones. Even if it didn’t violate the new agreement Torchwood had with the US, they wouldn’t help. He needed to earn their forgiveness. An impossible task for reasons they didn’t even know yet.

That meant a field trip. Having prepared for the possibility, he established credentials with various agencies. Under the circumstances, the EPA required the briefest explanation if he had to explain his presence. The actual Environmental Protection Agency was unlikely to show up quickly.

The computer chimed. Five minutes, he told himself, clicking the repeated video chat request. “Good morning,” he said in French as his five-year-old daughter appeared on the screen. Celeste didn’t understand Armenian yet.

“I’m bored.”

Not surprising. There were no scientists at Four. “You finished the puzzles?” He sent them for her birthday.

Celeste swore at him.

Jerard couldn’t help it, he smiled. “Celeste.”

A picture of a baby doll appeared on the screen. He suspected that was Bobby. He hacked her language computer so she could watch cartoons.

“I want toys.”

Jerard had no idea what to say. She had too much potential to waste her time with dolls. “Do you want a garden? You liked the book on plants.” Four could easily build a greenhouse.

Celeste motioned to the doll on the screen.

“Sweetheart.”

The call disconnected.

Angry, stubborn and determined. Celeste fit right into the extended Sarkisian family. The question was how to redirect her. But it had to wait. There was a more immediate problem then dolls.

Reluctantly, Jerard stood. He needed to look at the landfill. Once it was dealt with, he would visit Celeste. The cartoons were bad enough. He replaced them with educational ones. Maybe his cousin’s fiancee could figure it out. She understood his cousin. Childish distractions had to be simpler.


	2. Chapter 2

** Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales **

** Wednesday, February 2, 2022 **

They were home finally, Ianto Jones thought.

Jack opened the door, revealing their dusty flat. Ianto entered carrying Michael and the baby’s suitcase. Followed by Caden, the large white dog. She ran over and hopped on the sofa. It creaked under her weight. Russell, the teleporting cat, appeared on the small table by the kitchen as Ianto walked passed. Jack carried their suitcase and two garment bags in before closing the door.

“Michael’s starting to walk.” Ianto set the bag and the boy down. “I need to baby proof the flat.” As if to prove his point, Michael crawled away. 

Jack looked and sounded amused as he walked toward their bedroom. “Gives you an excuse to shop.” 

“We’ve been living at the hub for months.” Ianto looked at his wedding ring. “A lot has changed.” Until they got married, it didn’t always feel like the flat was theirs. He wanted, needed if he was honest, to redecorate.

“We sound married.” Jack carried their bags into their bedroom.

Ianto smiled, walking to the open doorway. “That would be getting on your case about Weevil spray in your pockets again.” It hadn’t been a problem since the Weevils were relocated to the island. 

“You were complaining about sorting laundry this morning.” Jack turned and reached for Ianto, pulling him for a kiss. 

When they lips parted, Ianto reluctantly said, “Michael…”

“Is playing with the dog.” Jack kissed Ianto again.

Jack’s mobile rang. He reluctantly stepped into the main room to answer it. “Harkness.”

That was their life, Ianto thought. They lived in between work calls and crises. That was Torchwood. The insanity brought them together and eventually forged their bond. As much as he wanted a honeymoon, it had to wait. Redecorating was at least possible with the diplomatic changes and security upgrades. 

Ianto moved over to help Michael onto the sofa. The band aid served as a reminder for the new GPS beacon continual monitored by him by satellite. Insane security procedures would feel normal at some point. The upgrade from previous versions took into consideration the possibility the hub would be unable to respond. The space station started passively monitoring military frequencies world-wide to provide as much notice as possible in the event of another coordinated attack. All necessary before they could return home.

Michael snuggled the puppy. She looked somewhat like a Great Dane mixed with a Great Pyrenees, but her breed was difficult to determine. One more Torchwood mystery. The cat appeared on the sofa not wanting to be ignored. Ianto reached up and petted him. The cat was the opposite. Despite the teleporting ability, Russell scanned as a domestic cat. Their life was anything but normal, it shouldn’t surprise him their pets were unusual.

“We have a situation in the states,” Jack said apologetically. “I need to check it from the office.”

Ianto wondered how long the extra consideration would last. It was left over from the military attack on the hub and the wedding complications. “I need to get groceries.” 

“If I have to go back to the hub, I would prefer if John shopped.”

Ianto nodded. “Don’t leave without telling me.”

“I won’t.” Jack walked over and kissed Ianto. Then tousled Michael’s hair. 

Jack Harkness wished they had time as he stepped into the hallway. The newly converted flat replaced the office he had before Michael’s nursery. With everything that happened, it was hard to believe that it happened less than a year ago. Somehow getting married and having a kid seemed normal. 

He opened the door. The flat previously belonged to John. A maintenance bot sat near the door. The main room held the security system he brought back from the original time line. The two bedrooms had been converted into offices. It meant being able to assess a situation without having to go to the hub.

Jack crossed the room to the closest one next to the kitchen. It had his desk. He received it from a friend’s granddaughter after he died.

His ear com clicked, activating automatically. “Rex.”

“Yeah.”

“Do we have scan data?” Jack sat behind the desk.

Frustrated, Rex said, “Working on it. Our arrangement with the US is limited. No drones or robotics except in an emergency. Four sent a maintenance bot to openly scan the research site.”

“What kind of research?” They needed an official facility in the states. Recent information suggested they had possibilities left over from Torchwood black ops. But they didn’t have the people. Even if Rex could convince the US to allow it.

“Environmental. A university near Chicago is testing an edible mushroom and insects that breaks down plastic waste. Something happened recently. People involved with growing, whether or not they ate the mushrooms, started exhibiting behavior changes. Local hospitals thought it was a parasite.”

“CN?” Jack asked as the screen started scrolling scan data transmitted over the satellite network. “No.” He realized, quickly skimming the information. “But the contamination is similar. The mushrooms were exposed to something in the soil.”

“The CDC came to the same conclusion. Except they can’t find the source.”

That meant reviewing the site firsthand. “Does the university have government or military contracts?” Jack wondered if it was weapons research. Torchwood black ops used mushrooms to create a generally fatal interrogation drug. 

“Grant programs. The environmental projects are good PR.”

The US had a history of dismissing climate change and environmental problems. “You need to research it,” Jack said. As an American, Rex had personal contacts. They needed to know what to hack to gather information remotely.

“Working on it.”

“Anything from the UN?” Jack wasn’t sure what to think of Torchwood’s new ally.

“Not yet.” 

Jack stood. After everything, he didn’t want to leave. That meant putting the network on alert. Previous attacks on the building had been while he was across town. While he wanted to believe the British government would behave for awhile, he knew better than to give the benefit of the doubt. 

He headed out of the flat. “I need thirty minutes. Gwen needs to go back to the hub.” The office couldn’t replace the facility during an investigation. But John could monitor it from there. His ability to teleport meant he could quickly offer back up, if needed. 

That meant they had a grocery problem. He couldn’t leave the building until they knew what they were dealing with. A recurring complication throughout the network that needed to be resolved. Atmore was working on it, but Rhys was angry being back there and that office was loyal to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

Gwen Cooper entered the new flat down the hall from the old one. It was on the other side of the building. Maintenance bots combined two flats. The general coordinated with John for new furniture. There was more plastic then she would have preferred, but Four’s new location provided an over abundance of it from the ocean. It wouldn’t win any home decorating awards. But it gave Anwen her own room and an extra room for storage. The extra large main room had a play area for Trefor that could be adapted as he got older and a homework area with a desk and bookshelves.

“Where’s my screen?” Trefor asked.

Gwen barely kept from groaning. “At the hub.” The downside to the change in the parenting arrangement. Jack lacked common sense. He bought a flight simulator game for Christmas. As anyone could have predicted, Trefor was addicted to it. Anwen asked John to build a robotic cockpit and the general recommended additional games. Gwen remembered when throwing blocks was the biggest parenting problem.

“Which room is mine?” Anwen rubbed her wrist-strap.

“Try next to the desk.”

Anwen pulled her suitcase across the room. Not understanding, Trefor followed. That guaranteed to be emotional. They shared a room since he came home from the hospital. It worked remarkably well despite their eight year age difference. But she needed space and he wouldn’t understand.

Gwen didn’t want to look at her room. Anything Rhys’ left was packed up in their original flat. They were living together when she joined Torchwood. She had no idea how to deal with his absence. Or trying to get through to him. That was for another day.

“Where’s my stuff?”

Siblings problems were normal, she thought walking over. They needed normal. If all went as planned, Anwen would be back in school starting Monday. Trefor would ideally be able to go back to Rhiannon’s daycare. None of them were ready for that.

Anwen said something that wasn’t loud enough to understand.

“Why?”

“You have a cool new bed.” Anwen stepped into the doorway. “It looks like a spaceship.”

Gwen’s mobile rang. Horrible timing, she thought, finding the phone in her pocket. She checked the screen. The custom caller ID indicated a police department in the states. Unsure of what to expect, she pressed connect. “Cooper.”

Anwen held out her hand to Trefor. “Your room’s on the other side of the bathroom.”

“Ma’am, this is the Dekalb County Sheriff’s department. That’s near Chicago.” He sounded unsure of how to explain. “I have a situation at a landfill.” He hesitated. “Something is dissolving the garbage.”

That was new. “Do you have pictures?”

“It’s shifting black sludge.”

As the mental list of questions started, one stood out. “How did you know to contact me?” She received regular phone calls from police officers internationally. Torchwood London had a website with relay numbers. Sometimes they called Cardiff PD for a phone number. But those showed on the ID.

“Dr. Stein.”

Gwen had no idea who that was. “Hold on.” She covered her mobile’s receiver and pressed her ear com. “Jack.”

“Yeah,” he sounded distracted.

She quickly explained.

“I am going to the states.” He sounded oddly apologetic. “You need to go back to the hub.”

Great. “What about the kids?”

John Hart stood in Ken’s flat trying to figure out how to explain why they couldn’t resume their relationship. John spent most of his life lying to people. It was one consistency with the Time Agency, freelancing and Torchwood. But he couldn’t convince a former lover their relationship problems was his fault. It was the truth. The reasoning was the problem. He could just picture trying to explain his girlfriend from a time line that no longer existed had essentially come back from the dead. But he could only spend time with her in his dreams.

The essence of his Anwen was in his wrist-strap. Why does it matter? She asked telepathically. One of the various side-effects of the CN and alchemy bond with the current version. I can transfer to my younger self’s wrist-strap. To give you privacy.

 _Ken couldn’t handle competing. He’s already been hospitalized twice. Once for near fatal case of alcohol poisoning._ John barely got him to the hub in time.

“John.” Ken brought John’s attention back to the flat. “Are you all right?”

“Thinking.” Lying he was good at. It was being considerate he hadn’t figured out.

“You said you can stay.”

“Hopefully.” Giving the younger version of Anwen an alchemy device allowing her to sever their bond and block her telekinesis was akin to putting a band aid on a cracked dam.

Ken looked and sounded frustrated. “Then what’s the problem?”

_He was already competing with a ghost._

John had no idea how to explain. “It’s complicated.”

_You’re making it complicated._

Ken crossed his arms. “More complicated then time travel and teleporting?”

His Anwen laughed.

“I can’t give you what Jack and Ianto have.”

That confused Ken more. “Have you been drinking?”

His Anwen laughed more.

John wished for a moment he could. The fused Nanogenes prevented him from getting drunk. “Something happened.” He couldn’t mention Simon or Bacchus either. “I can’t explain it.”

“That’s Torchwood,” Ken concluded. “Why does it matter?”

_Unless you plan on becoming a monk, you will want physical sex at some point._

When did I grow a conscience? John wondered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“This conversation is giving me a headache.” Ken rubbed his forehead.

John’s ear com chimed. He tapped it. “Problem?”

“We have a situation in Chicago.” Jack explained.

“The landfill sounds like reclamation technology. Possibly terraforming.” John couldn’t think of a type that could be hidden.

_Nanotechnology?_

John doubted it. “Any indication of Chula tech?” Something similar to Nanogenes might go undetected.

“Not yet.”

“How far is the landfill from the contaminated soil?”

_Find out if the university’s trash is taken to that landfill._

John repeated her statement and added, “Where do they get their soil and fertilizer?”


	4. Chapter 4

** NIU Environmental Research Farm; Dekalb, Illinois, USA **

An early morning fog hung over farm country. The modest collection of greenhouses west of Dekalb stood out among the snow covered fields. A pick-up with a snowplow attachment and “NORTHERN ILLINOIS UNIVERSITY” was the only private vehicle. CDC response vehicles claimed the lot.

Jack Harkness arrived using a portal device. He dressed for the weather and with his past experiences in mind. Miracle Day taught him a lot about the United States. None of it good. But then his opinion of world governments was at an all time low.

The door to the trailer opened as he approached. A woman wearing a sweater and jeans motioned him inside. He entered and closed the door behind him. The contemporary technology was impressive. He hoped the mobile research lab was civilian.

“I’m Dr. Stone. An internal medicine specialist.” She led to a small table.

“Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Any insights yet?” She sat and motioned across from her. 

Jack claimed a chair and set a hand-held scanner on the table. “We’ve dealt with a drug produced by contaminating mushrooms with a type of reptile excretion.” Sentient, alien reptiles that came through the Rift. “It’s produced by exposing the soil to incubating eggs.” 

If Stone recognized CN, she hid it well. “There are no unexplained biologicals.”

“Any objects or energy?” Jack asked more out of courtesy then expecting an answer. 

“No,” Dr. Stone said. “We checked everything before we called.” Pause. “After Miracle Day, it’s impossible to dismiss what you do. I was working at a hospital.” She shook her head. “Beyond that, it has been my experience that everything has a rational explanation.”

“The answer is outside your experience. Not irrational.” Jack’s ear com clicked as he spoke. He tapped it. “What do you have?”

“The landfill staff say that area of trash came from Chicago.” The satellite delay distorted Gwen’s voice slightly. “It’s a commercial area but not industrial. Retail businesses, a trade school school and a museum.”

“Any connection to NIU?”

Dr. Stone leaned on the table, watching and listening. Jack suspected she was interested in how Torchwood operated.

“The museum is affiliated. Research, student volunteers and a few adjunct professors that work for both. Nothing stands out.” Except her tone said she had a theory. “The museum is privately funded and has various projects and affiliations world-wide. According to their website, they review and authenticate archaeological discoveries.”

“Call as soon as it opens.” Ideally any artifacts came from countries that didn’t object to drones or had no way of identifying them. Four could easily send and monitor them. Unless they needed something intuitive. The sentient computer had limitations.

“Jack,” John injected, “Scan data from the landfill is similar to the greenhouse. The technology, whatever it is, targets pollutants, primarily plastic. It looks like the automated terraforming probe that destroyed the trash planet.”

Thanks to Bacchus, Jack remembered it clearly. “Nothing crashed recently.” The satellite network would have prevented it.

John’s tone said he agreed. “Nigeria recovers technology from African excavations. If the current facility works the way it did when I was first on Earth, it monitors the continent and recovers dangerous technology when it surfaces.”

“Do a Global search.” The computer from future Torchwood might have the answer already. Jack realized they missed a crucial detail. “If the museum transported it, what triggered it?” He looked at Stone. “Doctor, did you check the water quality? Is there any pollutants in the soil?” Or plastic. 

He flipped open his wrist-strap open before she replied, remote-accessed the maintenance bot and reprogrammed the scan to focus on tools. He then reviewed the information on a hand-held device. “John, check the new scan data. Cheap tools are breaking down on contact with water.”

“That fits with a terraforming probe. The nanites would be preprogrammed to react to certain criteria. If it’s similar to the trash planet, it targets pollution.” 

Jack nodded. “If that’s possible, the probe crashed. The nanotech was unrecognizable or someone misidentified it.” No one familiar with a terraforming probe would salvage it.

Gwen added, “We have to quarantine the museum, it’s storage if it’s not on-site, the landfill and the greenhouse.” The connection crackled.

“Unauthorized network access,” John reported. “Looks like Jerard Sarkisian.”

“The police officer that called about the landfill described Dr. Stein. He sounds like an older version of Luc with social skills.”

“I sent him a message. Jerard operates by pushing buttons,” John said. “He had law enforcement contact us for a reason.”

“Better contact his cousins for the quarantine. The ballistic shields are needed if we’re dealing with nanotech.” After what happened on the trash planet, they needed to disrupt the process as soon as possible. “Send everything we have to Tosh. She needs to coordinate research.”

“Owen needs medical records from the people affected,” Gwen said.

“Doctor.” Jack focused on Stone. “We need everything you have on the patients. Dr. Harper in London specializes in unusual medical problems. If the problem at the landfill is connected, they may need to be transported to London in quarantine units.”

“We have no indication it’s contagious.”

The probe on the trash planet couldn’t tell the difference between people with pollutants in their bodies and trash. “If their illness is related, it’s caused by nanotechnology not a pathogen.” The question was how they survived exposure. “Someone needs to review the mushroom and insect files. Breaking down the plastic may have affected the technology.”

“I need to see the doctor’s research,” John injected over the ear com. He could hear Jack’s side of the conversation. “Mushroom reproduce with spores. Nanite modified spores might explain why the CDC saw indications of a parasite infection.”

“We need to quarantine the patients immediately.” Jack needed to convey the possibility a terraforming probe created a symbiotic relationship with sentient beings without saying it in front of the doctor. “Possibly similar to what happened to the Institute.”

“The Cyberman attack?” That took John a moment to process. “What does that…” He trailed off as he made the connection. “You think the spores are modifying people to terraform.”

Jack hoped he was wrong. “Do you have a better explanation of why the people survived exposure?” 

“Gwen.” John hesitated. “I need Anwen’s help with Global.”

Gwen reluctantly agreed. “Limit it. She needs to focus on going back to school.”

Dr. Stone looked like her patience ran out. She leaned on her crossed arms and made eye contact. “What the fuck is happening, Captain?”

Jack wished he had a solid answer. “We are starting with the worse case scenario.” He paused to think. “Miracle Day was caused by a pharmaceutical company wanting to make money. They used advanced science.” To create a morphic field involving a massive alien creature and his immortal blood. “And produced a global effect. While it looked supernatural, it wasn’t.”

“Clarke’s Third Law?” Dr. Stone asked rhetorically. “’Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’”

“Basically. The simple explanation is nanotechnology. If it’s not, we will be able to determine that quickly.”

“If it is?”

“Then we need to contain the damage and find the source. Similar to preventing an epidemic.”


	5. Chapter 5

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Gwen Cooper sat in her usual seat at the conference room table. She had a laptop, tablet linked to the hub’s computer and a notebook and pen. One advantage of coordinating with law enforcement officers, even on mundane problems, was she had contacts. Six degrees of separation worked. A constable in Birmingham connected her to an Interpol officer specializing in Africa that knew a former DEA agent that’s brother dated a Chicago customs agent. 

“Good morning.”

“Dan said you’re part of Torchwood in Wales?” Renee’s tone suggested she didn’t know where it was.

“Cardiff is about three hours from London,” Gwen said. “I’m looking for information on incoming shipments for the Montgomery History Museum. It’s possible a recent crate was contaminated.”

“With what?”

“A possible biological agent.” It sounded better than nanotechnology. “Can you tell me where recent shipments originated?”

Typing sounded over the connection. “Algeria and New Zealand. Both cleared without problems.”

That meant contacting Idrissa and the general. Nigeria handled everything in Africa and had arrangements with various government officials independent of London. Atmore was the nearest office but didn’t an active field agent. Tiarni wasn’t fit for duty. She suspected the Pitcairns where Four had relocated was closer than Nigeria. If not, the general would know.

“Do you know the contents?”

Renee typed more. “Manifests list artifacts. No origin. There is a DEA flag on one of the African companies involved.” 

“Thank you.” Pause. “What is the name of the flagged company?” Azrael monitored drug dealers as CN originated from Africa.

“I can’t tell you.”

Nigeria could figure it out from Algeria or Kailen would hack Chicago customs, Gwen concluded. “Understood. Thanks again.”

“I hear Torchwood is hiring.”

That was thankfully a brief conversation. 

Gwen quickly wrote an email summarizing the situation and sent it to Nigeria and Four. Having the network made life easier most days. She preferred it to the days when her and Jack had to do everything. Investigating on three continents simultaneously would have been impossible.

The intercom clicked, startling her. No one else was in the hub.

“Mum,” Anwen said, “I found something on the Internet.”

Remote-accessing the hub was one more reminder her daughter was tied to Torchwood. No matter what she preferred. “What?”

“Montgomery Museum partly funded an archaeological dig on an uninhabited island between the Pitcairns where Four is now and New Zealand. Great Britain stuck a flag on it and no one argued. A scientist, her brother and fiancee found the dig site because of boat trouble. Montgomery offered funding because the island was good for botany and geological research too.”

“Anything unusual?”

“There are stories about the island being evil. But the information’s on sites about the Bermuda Triangle and Bigfoot.”

“Thanks. I will deal with it. You have homework.”

“About that. I have to write an essay on a social topic. I chose “inherent sexism in public education.” The teacher will call.”

Gwen smiled. “Have fun.” She could already picture that conversation. 

The intercom clicked. 

Montgomery Museum, she thought, what was worth the expense of excavating the island? She looking at her keyboard, wondering where to start. 

** (Hospital); Chicago, IL, USA **

Jack Harkness entered the secured ward housing the patients from the NIU research project. Three people were admitted for exhibiting unusual symptoms and behavior. A fourth joined them after the CDC conducted blood tests and found similarities in his blood. They were the reason the US officially requested Torchwood’s assistance.

He smiled, holding up his badge to a twenty-something nurse. “Captain Jack Harkness with Torchwood.” Dr. Stone called ahead to the hospital.

The young man blushed slightly. His lanyard name tag said, “Chris.”

Amused, Jack continued. “I need a room for interviews.” He hoped a simple scan would indicate whether they needed to be transported to Owen. Dr. Stone hadn’t liked that idea and didn’t think it was legal. Jack needed to do an assessment first. Then Rex could handle the diplomacy.

The nurse hesitated. “You can interview any of them. But…”

“They’re not coherent?”

“They’re dangerous.” He looked distracted. It took Jack a moment to realize it was his wedding ring that had the younger man’s attention.

“All four?”

Chris nodded. “Three of them are obvious. The fourth one. Zeke.” His cheeks reddened again. “Flirted with me and tried to take my ID.” He held it up. “It opens the doors.”

Dr. Stone hadn’t mentioned that. Jack wondered if she knew. “I will just flirt.”

The orderly closed his eyes. “You’re married.”

“Not dead.” Jack smiled. “Where’s Zeke?”

They walked down the hall. Chris stopped in front of a locked door and hesitated. “Zeke looks perfectly normal. He can pass a psyche exam.” Pause. “But his sister and girlfriend say his behavior is wrong. He’s not gay. Both said he’s homophobic.”

“Good to know.” Either Zeke was in the closet or he had a personality change. If it was the latter, that supported the symbiosis theory. 

“I will stay by the door.” Chris opened it with his ID. 

Jack entered the sparse room. Zeke sat on the bed with his back against the wall. The college student in his early twenties turned and smiled. There was something in his eyes. It made Jack uneasy. He stopped across the room.

“Good morning.” Jack introduced himself. “Torchwood was called in to help the CDC.” He held up the scanner. “This will help determine what you were exposed to.”

Zeke swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “That violates my privacy.”

Jack programmed the scanner. “Not if you’re a public health threat.” The results confirmed it. Just not what Jack expected. “What are you?” He looked up from the device.

Zeke stood. “Bored.”

“Chris, open the door.” Jack heard the nurse fumble with the lock sensor.

“We are the next stage in human evolution.”

It was a parasite with delusions of grandeur, Jack thought, backing out of the room. He waited until they were out of the room and the door was closed. “I need to ask an awkward question.”

“What?”

Jack turned to look at Chris. Then reached out and tipped his chin up to see his eyes. “Did he kiss you?” Jack withdrew his hand. 

“No. He tried.”

“I need to scan you.” Jack quickly programmed the scanner. “Just to be safe, everyone that has come in contact with the patients needs blood work.” Starting with Chris. “I know this is awkward. Do you normally flirt openly?”

He blushed. “No. My boyfriend left and…”

“I’m not judging. Did it start after you met Zeke?”

Chris hadn’t expected that. He thought about it for a moment. “Yeah.”

Jack flipped open his wrist-strap and programmed his ear com to connect to the satellite network. It clicked. “Rex?”

His response was delayed and had static. “Yes.”

“One of the NIU patients has a plant-based parasite attached to his brain stem. Everyone he has had contact with needs to be quarantined, scanned and have blood work. Anyone that tests positive needs medical stasis and relocation.” 

Rex didn’t like the sound of that. “Is that what you expected to find?”

“No.” Not even close. Without the similarities between scans at the NIU garden and the landfill, Jack wouldn’t have made the connection. That worried him.


	6. Chapter 6

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Negotiating with the US reminded Rex Matheson of his days in the CIA. The government went out of it’s way to argue people had rights. Unless it was violating them. The situation in Chicago was ridiculous. The CDC asked for Torchwood’s help. As far as he knew, there was no PR or political reason to object to emergency medical transport. It puzzled him enough to ask a researcher to check the man’s background.

With minimal options, and a time constraint, he left his office and headed down to the medical department. Owen had extensive experience with diagnosing and creative explanations. Unfortunately, the head of medical wasn’t answering emails or his phone. While not unusual, it was annoying. 

Rex walked passed the infirmary. Owen rarely entered the main areas of his department, preferring medical research. It kept him near Tosh, in the science department, and away from everyone else. If she wasn’t busy, he would have contacted her to deal with him. 

One more negotiation, Rex thought, entering the medical and science departments front room. The desk in the small, empty waiting area had dust. They didn’t have visitors. Any patients were too far gone. 

The intercom clicked. “Wrong room.”

“Owen.”

A few minutes later, a door in the back opened and Owen emerged looking half awake. He approached looking somewhere between annoyed and inconvenienced. “I’m busy.”

Doing what? Rex wanted to ask. “Jack is in the US with a quarantine situation. He needs to prove that one of four patients exhibiting similar symptoms is extremely dangerous and needs to be transported here.”

“What kind of symptoms?”

Rex handed Owen a tablet with the details. 

He quickly skimmed the information. Then swore. “Doctor’s Without Borders has a similar problem in Paupa New Guinea. A small medical facility sealed itself. They have two dead and an unknown pathogen resembling a parasite they can’t identify. Or prove exists.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Owen looked up, his expression saying it was a dumb question. “I consult on several mundane medical problems a day. With all the social media, doctors in areas with limited resources call. Do you know what this is? Can you run tests just to be sure it’s not a Torchwood case? Do you evac patients that need care we can’t provide?” Owen shook his head. “The Nigerian office has a medical network established and coordinates with The Red Cross and Crescent.”

“More than psyche patients?” Rex knew very little about Azrael’s day-to-day activities. The facility was originally designed for global monitoring and dangerous storage. But it had somehow become Torchwood’s psychiatric facility.

“With something called The Refuge on speed dial.”

The psychic community in Kenya. Rex knew that much. Sometimes he wondered if his position was little more than a figure head designed to argue with bureaucrats. “What kind of government does Paupa New Guinea have?” 

“It’s a member of the Commonwealth of Nations.”

Rex thankfully recognized it. Torchwood had an agreement with them. They were small countries, many former British colonies. It took a moment to remember it was north of Australia. “I will coordinate with Four.” The general was the best option for an immediate response. They had fewer duties than Nigeria.

“Someone needs to focus on the source.”

“Gwen.” Rex realized that her last update involved New Zealand and a nearby island. “She may have found it.” Pause. “Tosh is coordinating with Luc about Chicago. She needs what you have.”

** (Hospital); Chicago, IL, USA **

Jack Harkness stood guard. With the disagreement over the young man’s medical status, it was the only way to prevent anyone entering the room. A nurse had already threatened to call security. If the hospital tried to remove him, he would have to take Zeke by force. He already alerted Keara on the station. 

“Captain Harkness,” Dr. Stone said. From her tone, the CDC doctor had been volunteered to talk sense into him.

“Doctor.”

She stopped a few feet from him and crossed her arms. “What’s the difference between Mr. Delaney and the other patients? The blood work’s the same.”

“They have completely different problems.” One of the many puzzles. “The other three are affected by contaminants from the garden. They need a somewhat simple treatment.” Gwen was looking through storage for the tech. “Zeke has an unknown parasite attached to his central nervous system. It altered his behavior to affects others.”

“You said no one else had been affected.”

“It’s transmitted by bodily fluids. Chris shows indications of pheromone exposure. From what he described, Zeke attempted to use sexual attraction. Two other nurses reported similar behavior.”

Dr. Stone didn’t believe him. “They weren’t affected?”

“One is pregnant and the other isn’t attracted to men. He couldn’t trigger a need to reproduce.”

She hesitated, composing her thoughts. “He’s only dangerous to women?”

“No. Chris resisted because he strongly believes kissing a patient under his care is wrong.” 

“Why can’t Mr. Delaney be treated here?” 

“He’s Typhoid Mary,” Jack said simply. “He needs to be evaluated in a quarantine facility designed to contain complicated biological threats. Once secured, Torchwood London’s medical and science staff can assess the parasite.”

Dr. Stone nodded slightly. “She was a carrier that spent the rest of her life in isolation.”

“For everyone’s safety.” Jack waited a moment. “Torchwood found another outbreak with similar symptoms and two fatalities. Preliminary review show a third pathogen.” Pause. “They were exposed to a biological catalyst. The result varies by circumstances.”

“Prove it.”

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

“Publicity,” she said simply.

That and politics had him wasting time arguing with her. “Do you want to go to London?” Jack smiled. “A once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Dr. Stone groaned. “I’ve been to London.”

“By spaceship?” 

“You’re not serious.” 

Jack knew he had her. “I have one on standby waiting to transport Zeke.” He preferred a medical stasis unit and a portal device. But if the ship ended the argument, he’d use it. “No publicity. We’re trying to prevent an epidemic not cause a wide-spread panic.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Hughes Flat; Cardiff, Wales**

What were they missing? John Hart wondered. Unless they were salvaging technology and smuggling it as artifacts, and he doubted it, the probe was somehow mistook for antiquities. Over time the nanotech could have fused with mundane items. Age lead to malfunctions and explained the inconsistencies. Except it was handled at the site and transported. The cases in Papua New Guinea were either exposed at the site or someone stole part of the probe.

The computer indicated an incoming call. He accepted it. “Hart.”

“Hey.” The general sounded confused. “Mum said you identified the tech in the states.”

“Probably.”

“I have drones over the island. The research ended. A US pharmaceutical company is harvesting plants.”

John shook his head. “Mushrooms?”

“No. Genetically modified plants. Initial scans indicate medicinal properties.”

“Atmore energy?”

“Nothing.” Pause. “No nanotechnology. No alien technology. Four thinks the site excavated is several hundred years old.”

Maybe the probe was designed to recycle itself, John thought. “Is there an impact crater?”

“From small meteorites.”

That might explain it. Scientists collected meteorites. “Scan the stone. If the probe impacted an asteroid or a comet or…” That was an extremely long list. “The nanotech could have fused with the stone.” The satellite network would scan basic space debris. “Check for unusual elements or chemical compositions.”

“We found scan resistant meteorites. If they reacted to plastic, this island would have triggered them…” The general trailed off as he realized something. “Four cleaned up all the ocean plastic on the island. A storm unearthed the meteorites after that.”

“Quarantine them.”

“Four is doing that now. We collected them for possible building materials.”

Storm? The essence of his Anwen asked from his wrist-strap. Could that have activated the probe pieces?

“Was there anything unusual about the storm?”

“I don’t know. It was a weak cyclone.”

John wondered how that could trigger a deteriorated probe. It happened so it’s possible. That was Nova Scotia’s motto. He hoped Luc was recovered enough for a major puzzle. Physics was his passion. “Send scan data of the island, storm and meteorites to Canada.”

“If those meteorites are contaminated, the threat isn’t contained. We found them in several places around the Pitcairns and in a shipwreck off the coast of Chile.”

“I don’t know.” John realized there was a way to find out. “I need to go to the museum.” He looked down at his wrist-strap. You need to transfer before I leave. He didn’t want to risk her.

I can keep working.

_Your younger self needs to do her homework._

“I will send mum updates.” The call disconnected.

John stood, realizing someone needed to stay in the office in case there was a security problem. He needed to contact Ianto and Anwen. And Ken. John needed a cover story for transferring his Anwen between wrist-straps.

_Tell him she needs to run Global searches._

Ianto Jones only realized he was still holding a teddy bear after he sat down at Jack’s desk. It wasn’t how Ianto wanted his first day back. Jack’s absence made him anxious. Feeling guilty for keeping the toy told him he was headed for an anxiety attack. Reminding himself that Jack was immortal didn’t help. The fear was irrational. Ianto knew it was irrational. That didn’t lessen it.

He scrolled through the network alerts. The notifications and requests told a story. The situation had escalated since Jack left. Every office joined the investigation. Atmore was even monitoring emergency services in Australia and New Zealand. What happened?

The computer clicked. The system flagged an unauthorized communication.

Unsure what to expect, Ianto asked, “Hello?”

“Good afternoon, mon cherie,” an unfamiliar male voice said.

Ianto recognized the French but not the accent. “Who’s this?”

Amused, the man replied. “Jerard. The bad Sarkisian cousin.” That explained the accent. He was French Canadian.

“What do you want?”

Jerard laughed. It reminded Ianto of Jack.

Are you flirting? “You triggered a system notification. Who’s Dr. Stein?”

“Existential symbolism.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Does it involve beer?”

Jerard laughed more. Then tried for a German accent briefly. “Nein, Herr Jones. I drink wine.” Pause. “Do you like Pinot Noir?”

At least it wasn’t eye candy. “What do you want?” Ianto emphasized.

“Is that an offer?”

Ianto set his hand over his face. “Jerard,” he said using a tone he reserved for Anwen when she was being difficult, “Why did you call?”

“I have information. It’s easier to upload if I have someone to send it to.” The computer chimed, indicating a data transfer.

“Why is it in German?”

“Dr. Stein is German.”

His own family thinks he’s crazy, Ianto thought as he ran it through a translation program. “Chemical composition?” Ianto asked, skimming the scientific report. The program flagged words that might confuse an English speaker and offered definitions. It was definitely something to send Tosh.

“The landfill could be an extreme environmental experiment. The technology breaks down waste, particularly pollutants, into harmless basic elements. The process is fueled by the ballistic shield barriers that failed to contain it. The byproduct is safer than the trash, giving us time to analyze it.”

“How urgent?”

“I don’t know. It averages half a metric ton an hour. Approximately twelve a day. If the landfill remains open, it will receives several thousand tons daily. It would take decades.” Jerard hesitated. “That is based on minimal observation and does not have enough information to qualify as an educated guess.”

“What’s needed to make a determination?”

“Long-term research.” Jerard paused. “If it was intentional, the people involved know about the decommissioned black ops facility I’m using. They want Torchwood’s attention.”

Ianto didn’t like the sound of that. “How many people know you’re there?”

“Several. Grandchildren of unethical researchers directly or indirectly tired to Beaupre. We didn’t do it.” Pause. “But someone like us could have.”

“Did you find the source?”

“No. But it originated in a section of garbage from Chicago no more than a few days old. The area’s inaccessible to the general public.” Pause. “If it was intentional, the people planned it carefully. Otherwise the process would have started in a truck instead of the landfill.”


	8. Chapter 8

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Jack Harkness stood in an observation room adjacent to quarantine. A thick window separated the two rooms. It looked similar to the one in the hub and was designed to contain dangerous aliens. Zeke paced anxiously. The brief medical stasis barely affected him. A consequence of something other than the parasite.

The door opened and Dr. Stone entered in front of Tosh. 

“I reviewed his blood work.” Her tone said the American doctor had tried her patience. That said a lot about Dr. Stone. Tosh lived with Owen.

Jack turned. “What?” 

“The parasite is unrelated to the mushroom spores. The similarity is he had both.”

“Had?” Jack wondered. The spores proved more complicated then expected.

“The parasite disrupted them. He has antibodies Owen used to devise a treatment. It should be ready in the next couple days. Techs are testing it on samples and running computer simulations.”

Dr. Stone looked skeptical. “Research doesn’t happen this fast.”

It does here. “Owen has experience with parasites and spores.” Jack wondered it was similar to the aquatic alien excretions. “Is it similar to the Rossitor drug?” 

“Coincidentally. The parasite alters the body’s immune system.” Tosh sounded uncertain. “Either cutting him off from potential victims or relocating him caused confusion.” Pause. “It might not be a conventional parasite. When Owen interviewed Mr. Delaney, there was no indication of the attitude you mentioned.”

“Meaning you were wrong?” Dr. Stone asked.

“No.” Jack turned back to the window. That meant the parasite was potentially part of a much larger organism. Zeke might be a hive drone.

“Rex requested permission to scan DeKalb. It could find the connection to Chicago, the landfill or the parasite.”

Jack nodded slightly. He suspected the problem was in Chicago and even if they got permission, it wouldn’t work unless they knew where to look. “We need scans of how the parasite disabled to spores.” It could tell them what caused the mushrooms to mutate and offer ideas on how to deal with the landfill.

“One of the Sarkisians is working on it. Monty maybe.” Tosh didn’t know.

Jerard? Jack wondered. Monty’s specialty was the atmosphere. “I need to check in at home.” With John in Chicago, Ianto and Ken were stressed. “If they don’t get groceries soon, they will have to go back to the office.” 

Dr. Stone looked and sounded skeptical. “Your husband can’t shop?”

“We have ongoing security concerns after the last attempt to destroy our office.” Jack didn’t like his tone. It wasn’t her fault the British government tried to destroy their sea wall and drown them. 

“Owen will figure out the parasite and the spores, Jack,” Tosh said confidently. 

“What about me?” Dr. Stone crossed her arms.

Jack turned again. “You can watch Dr. Harper work.” 

Tosh didn’t like that idea. “Jack…”

The doctor looked from Jack to Tosh. “What’s the problem?” 

“Owen’s an arse.” 

“Then why is he the head of Torchwood Medical?”

Jack walked toward the door. “Ask him.” 

** Near Montgomery Museum; Chicago, Illinois, USA **

John Hart walked through the area identified by the waste management company. Nothing stood out. The problem was he didn’t know what he was looking for. It was entirely possible the museum imported contaminated artifacts, materials or meteorites without knowing it. That was the preferred scenario. But it didn’t explain how the contamination reached the university or the landfill without causing problems in Chicago. Someone probably knew there was a problem and covered it up or it was intentional. Did it accomplish anything other than forcing the CDC to contact Torchwood?

That could have been the goal. They received a lot of media attention since the military attacks. Without knowing who it was hard to guess their motives. Although the landfill made an environmental statement. And the mushrooms exposed Zeke. 

John stopped on a corner looking up and down the streets. What were the simple possibilities? Someone knew about the medicinal potential for the modified plants and stole some. Greed worked for the meteorites. Something went wrong and they tossed them in the trash. Or they removed them from the originally shipping crates to hide the theft.

Unless they weren’t criminals, he thought, looking at a church van. The states had limited social services and for-profit health care. That made people desperate. 

He ducked into an alley. Then opened his wrist-strap. He used it to connect his ear com to the satellite network. It clicked. The distance and relay caused static on the connection.

“John?” Ianto asked.

“Do we have a background on Zeke Delaney yet?”

“Nothing unexpected. A student living on scholarships, grants and work study. No criminal record. Nothing on friends and family yet.”

John nodded. “Does he have medical insurance? Or belong to a church?”

“Hold on.” 

“Nothing on church membership. But the CDC did review his medical history. He visited a clinic near the university several times. Treatment for an STD and a bad reaction to antibiotics.”

It was guaranteed the clinic and staff were connected to Chicago one way or another. “Look for a connection between the museum and the clinic.”

“Anything specific?”

John quickly explained what the general told him about the island. Then he realized there was another possibility. “Find out if the company harvesting plants has an office or any type of research projects in the Chicago area.” 

“I will ask Liam.”

“Thanks.” John switched off his ear com.

What to try next? He looked down at his hand-held scanner. Walking down the alleys was guaranteed to attract attention and probably wouldn’t find anything. He needed to find a place to sit and scan people. The coffee shop across the street was a good place, but he needed a laptop to give him an excuse to sit by himself.

** Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales **

Jack Harkness portaled in near the garage. He had second thoughts about leaving Dr. Stone at headquarters. She had a lot in common with Owen. Most organizations wouldn’t tolerate a doctor with no social skills, particularly one that needed to interact with patients. The attitude got worse when she joined him in Chicago. With the conflict over transporting Zeke, offering her a ride was the easiest solution. If he suspected it at the time, he still would have offered. The security measures were the same.

He used his wrist-strap to connect with London using his ear com. 

“Matheson.” 

“Have you done a background on Dr. Stone?”

“Yeah. She works for DARPA but is temporarily based out of the CDC Chicago office.”

It was a team effort, Jack told himself. But he made a mistake. He didn’t ask the right questions. 

“I already told Stone if her attitude didn’t change, she was going back to Chicago on the next plane.” Pause. “The government lied. DARPA wouldn’t be involved based on what I was told. They are in-house military R&D.”

“That’s why they didn’t want drones.” 

“Until someone photographed military personnel in DeKalb and flooded conspiracy sites with MIB sightings. That conveniently blurred all the faces. Blaming it on distortion technology.” 

Jack smiled. 

“We got permission for drones after the kids got tired of waiting. Luc is reviewing the data. Nothing obvious. Other than the landfill.”

An idea occurred to Jack. “What if the government called us in to monitor their project? The mushrooms gave them an excuse.” 

“Or to test our response time or ability to counter the tech.”

Jack nodded, walking toward the building. “When we shut it down, we don’t tell the government how.”

He noticed a small package next to the car park door. 

“I need to take a call.” The connection ended. 

Using his hand-held device, Jack scanned the box. It contained an external hard drive. Wary, he looked around as he approached the door. Their mail was redirected to the tourist office. Boxes were flagged as potentially dangerous. Electronics wouldn’t have been delivered. The box had an envelope tapped to it with “Jack” written in somewhat familiar masculine script. 

He crouched down and removed it. The back had an old wax insignia Jack hadn’t seen in a long time. He turned the envelope over again and eyed the handwriting. Jonah Robard. Jack picked up the box and stood. An old friend he hadn’t seen in a long time because he died. 

What are you offering for the clones? Jack wondered as he entered the building. He opened the envelope as the door closed behind him. 

The letter all but confirmed what Owen suspected about Jonah. That his neural imprint had been copied before he died. The only one outside his family who would know for sure was Cory and he started acting strange after Christmas. If the secret was out, Jonah didn’t have to hide any longer. 


	9. Chapter 9

** Torchwood Nigeria; Sokoto State, Nigeria **

** Thursday, February 3, 2022 **

The youngest Keara Montfert checked her messages on a laptop in her room. Convincing The Prophet to allow it was an experience. He worried. The effort to connect to the satellite network, and the delays, made her wonder it was worth it at times. Both security and the complicated system caused it. Then the messages reminded her why she made the effort. She wished real-time communication was possible, but it was harder to manage and reserved for Torchwood business.

No message yet. He must be busy. Keara quickly typed, “How’s Victor today?” Then sent.

The more she spoke to Jerard, the more she wondered about the Frankenstein references. She didn’t need her psychic ability to tell her it indicated a psychological problem. Living in a psychiatric facility gave her a lot of insight into those. She wished her ability provided an explanation. Despite the time traveling version of herself in another universe or dimension, the inconsistencies and limitations didn’t disappear. Although it was probably for the best.

A notification chimed. She clicked it. “Reviewing the landfill’s chemical changes. The process is incredible. If it can be controlled, it will revolutionize waste disposal. It might even work on nuclear waste.”

Keara smiled, picturing him describe it as she heard his voice. He loved science and easily lost himself in it. If only he wasn’t crazy, she thought. It would be easy enough to lose herself in the excitement. What happened with Colin was a constant reminder. She couldn’t make that mistake again. Especially knowing Colin was simply misguided. Jerard was dangerous.

Another chime. “Where are you coming to visit, Fraulein Igor? The snow is no longer frozen.”

Tempting. Keara imagine trying to explain going back. The Prophet would get that look on his face again. Even after the transformation into Azrael, and loss of his physical form, he still had the same expressions. He tried explaining that dangerous men were appealing but not worth the risk. She resisted the urge to point out he was describing himself. Which probably explained her interest in Jerard. The Prophet was the only father she knew and as cliche as it was, she fell for a man that reminded her of him.

“Maybe when it’s warm…” Before she could send it, an image of an explosion filled her mind. Keara knew beyond a doubt she wouldn’t be visiting. While her first concern was an attempt on his life, her intuition told her he was going to cause the explosion. 

She deleted the first message and typed a new one. “Jerard, you need to be prepared for an attack. Maybe a hack.” She wished she knew the details. “I don’t know where.” Sending the nearly worthless message frustrated her. 

Keara knew her potential. The time traveling version of herself was a demi-god. The soldier version on the station was impressive. She suspected they limited her. They arranged for The Prophet to rescue her and prevent the trauma that sent them on the path that made them. She was their conscience. Not that they listened to her.

Trying to ignore the other complication, she laid down on her bed. She needed to know what Jerard faced before she faced the other dilemma. Both the complicated, maddening men in her life expected her loyalty. Jerard wanted her to keep his secrets. The Prophet relied on her to tell him what she knew.

One problem at a time, she thought, focusing on Jerard. She needed answers. Sometimes her ability worked.

** Vision **

Keara felt herself standing in the middle of a conference call. Somehow she knew they were on a secured network not unlike Torchwood. She could sense more people listening then speaking. But she had no idea who they were. All she knew was they were discussing Jerard.

“We need to get him under control,” the first person, an older man, said. He sounded frustrated. She suspected there was more to it. Something under the surface.

A woman responded. She was annoyed. “Using the child as leverage should have worked.”

“We anticipated he would act to preserve his legacy,” a young man said. But something about him felt older. As an old man in a young body. “Rescuing her and retaliating violated his psyche profile.”

The first man stated firmly. “It’s wrong. We knew he was a good liar. He convinced the government psychiatrist he didn’t have anger problems.”

“What’s a better incentive?” The woman demanded. “Money won’t work. He has enough to buy a third world country.”

Another voice joined. A woman in her late twenties said, “We offer him a challenge. Something involving chemistry. He won’t be able to resist.”

The first woman had doubted. “Even if it kept his attention, he’s proven that personal connections are more important. We need a long turn plan.”

“How?” The older man asked.

The younger woman laughed. “Give him a woman. His dungeon has to get lonely. A girlfriend, pregnancy. Someone loyal to us.”

** Torchwood Nigeria; Sokoto State, Nigeria **

Keara left her room and hurried toward The Prophet’s office. Jerard was vulnerable. She couldn’t just tell him. She needed to go to him. With his ego, he wouldn’t believe it was possible. She was positive what she overheard led to the landfill situation. Their plan was already working.

He shimmered, stepping out of the office and materialized. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jerard.” She explained quickly. As her worry increased, the knowledge of the situation followed. “I have go back.”

“You are emotionally involved.”

She nodded. “It focuses my ability.” At least as far as Jerard was involved. 

The Prophet shimmered. “He will have expectations if you return.”

That didn’t require a psychic ability. “I will tell him why I’m there.”

“Keara…” The Prophet looked unsure how to explain something. “Unless Jerard shares your view on celibacy, he’s unlikely to respect it.”

She had no idea how to deal with that. “If you contact him and tell him someone is trying to manipulate him, he won’t listen.” Pause. “I don’t know anything about relationships.” Or sex. “But I understand egos. Jerard won’t believe he’s vulnerable anymore than you would.”

“You will talk to me daily.” The Prophet’s tone said it wasn’t optional. “And you need to talk to the doctor before you go.”

Keara didn’t look forward to another mortifying conversation on where babies come from. “Okay.”


	10. Chapter 10

** (Apartment Building); DeKalb, Illinois, USA **

Jack Harkness returned to the area using a portal device. Investigating in the United States reminded him of Miracle Day. While the situations were completely different, he wondered if the answer was the same. Was unethical research and corporate greed behind the current situation? He suspected they were at least involved.

Ideally, Zeke Delaney’s life offered some explanation. Jack entered his apartment building with a growing list of questions. 

Using his wrist-strap, Jack scanned the building. Nothing stood out. Nova Scotia previously scanned it with a drone and found nothing. One of the many oddities surrounding the parasite. Zeke’s behavior indicated it manipulated his behavior in an effort to spread the infection. It even affected the sexual behavior of people around Zeke. But they had yet to find another parasite. Owen suspected transmission required specific conditions. 

Walking through the building, and up the stairs, provided no new insight. Most of the residents were college students. A few gave him looks, but no one said anything. Recent publicity, and social media, meant they knew who he was. Although Torchwood was less known in the states.

Jack knocked belong the number forty-three. Ianto called ahead and made arrangements with Zeke’s roommate. Nothing in his background offered anything but Ianto was still looking.

The door opened. Mike Ledford matched his school, DMV and social media pictures. He stepped back and motioned Jack inside.

“Sorry about the mess.”

The small apartment looked lived in. “Not a problem.”

Mike closed the door. “I don’t know what I can tell you.” He walked back toward the main room. “Zeke was acting weird. But considering some of the people in this building. I see weirder on a daily basis.”

Young people exploring life after leaving home had similarities regardless of country or planet. “Weird how?” Jack followed, looking around the small room.

Mike looked unsure where to start. “Zeke is a jock. In high school, he lived the cliche. Football, cheerleaders and jerk behavior.” Mike’s tone said he didn’t approve. “A lot of it was his dad. An old school, conservative blue collar guy. My dad’s the same. Zeke wanted a different life.” He hesitated. “Avery said she mentioned the homophobia.”

Jack nodded. 

“He mellowed after he got here. But it wasn’t going anywhere. Part of his dad’s macho was be a man bullshit.”

“When did it change?” That might indicate when he was infected.

Mike looked uncertain. “I don’t know. I first noticed it a few weeks ago. He came back from Chicago and seemed to flirt with a guy down the hall. I thought it was my imagination. But.” He hesitated.

“What?”

“I started wondering if I misunderstood the homophobia.” Mike took a moment to say it. “And he was coming out of the closet.”

“Zeke’s behavior changes might indicate when he was exposed. Did he show any indication of being bi or gay before that?”

“No. It was the only idea I had for the change.”

That fit with Zeke’s social media, Jack thought. “Any idea where he went in Chicago?”

“No. Zeke only told me where he was going if he was bragging. He had really good Bears tickets for a couple games last fall and he made sure everyone knew it.”

“Where did he get them?”

“I don’t know.” Mike looked he realized something. “He had money from somewhere the last month, maybe. Usually he struggled.”

Seeing Zeke’s room gave Jack a better understanding of what Mike meant about money. The new laptop was obvious. But new clothes and personal items indicated Zeke’s finances changed a lot recently. It also showed the extent of his personality change. 

Jack used his wrist-strap to connect his ear com to the Torchwood network. “Ianto.”

“Yep.” He sounded anxious. 

“Have you checked Zeke’s bank records?”

“What I’ve been able to find. He probably worked off books for extra money.”

Unless Zeke was working as an escort, or selling drugs, there was more to it. “Anything different about his deposits in the last month?”

Ianto paused. “He spent less money.”

“He had cash.”

“John asked for EZ PASS information. It’s for quickly paying toll for pay highways.”

Jack nodded. “Do we have GPS from his car?”

“No. And we didn’t get his mobile.”

How do we track you? Jack looked at the laptop wondering if Zeke kept the receipt. “Ask Liam for ideas on using social media for finding students with unexplained money. Maybe keyword searches involving purchases.”

“The possibility that Zeke was not only contagious but actively seeking to infect people was leaked to the media. Doctors and the A&Es have people asking to be tested.”

“Find out if Rex has contacted the CDC to arrange testing. Most of the symptoms will be psychosomatic. But it could get information.” If people volunteered for scans, it would make it harder for the US to complain about privacy and rights.

“And prevent a panic.”

Jack looked around the room. “We need Zeke’s phone records.” They were missing something. “Also ask Liam to check for local job offers or programs that could explain the money.”

Footsteps approached the room followed by a knock. Jack walked over and opened the door. A woman wearing a jacket over scrubs with a lanyard ID around her neck smiled apologetically. She needed to ask him something.

“Captain Harkness, I’m Kasey Arnold. I’m a nurse practitioner for a low-income medical clinic three blocks from here. We do a lot of STD testing. Since the media started talking about Zeke Delaney, we’re overwhelmed with people asking questions we can’t answer. Our budget can’t cope.”

“How can Torchwood help?” Jack suspected he already knew.

“The reporters claim you can quickly test for the parasite affecting Delaney. Can you set-up something at the clinic?”

“Yeah.” Jack motioned at his ear piece so he didn’t look like he was talking to himself. “Ianto, I need to call Rex.” 

“Check in later.” 

“Yeah.” Jack wondered what triggered the anxiety. It was probably fear of another attack on the hub or building. Not surprising since Ianto’s first trauma was the Cyberman attack on the Institute. “Love you.” Jack hoped that helped. 

“Love you.”


	11. Chapter 11

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Ianto Jones wondered how anxious he sounded if Jack was being affection over the com during an investigation. Thinking about being anxious made it worse. Ianto needed to distract himself. Inventory might help. There was nothing stress-inducing about paperwork. Just the potential for an unintended sleep. He headed for Jack’s office.

The intercom clicked. 

“Ianto, do you know how this flight simulator works?” Ken sounded frustrated.

“Gwen shut it off. Which Trefor knows.” Ianto was surprised Anwen didn’t turn it back on. She argued against turning it off. With Gwen at Cardiff PD, she couldn’t monitor it.

“I’m bored,” Trefor whined. He was probably stressed from Gwen and Anwen arguing.

“You can ask your mom when she gets back.” Ianto wasn’t above bribing a five-year-old. “Get your lessons done and I will talk to her.”

“Uncle Jack would let me.”

I bet he would. “Work first.”

The intercom clicked off.

“Computer, where is Anwen Williams?”

The computer replied, “Outside programmed parameters.” 

Ianto shook his head. “Computer, locate GPS beacon,” he continued with the code. 

“Erroneous request.”

It was going to be that kind of day. Ianto tapped his ear com. “Anwen.”

“Outside programmed parameters.”

She was probably mad about John for being in Chicago. Ianto tapped his ear com again. “John.”

Ianto reached the stairs leading to Jack’s office before the connection clicked. It was more than a delay. John was probably in a public area.

“Miss me, eye candy?”

Ianto rolled his eyes as he climbed the stairs. “When did you talked to Anwen last? She programmed the computer to reject requests for her location.”

“She’s mad at Gwen. They had an argument about Trefor.”

Ianto wondered if there anything he should mention anything since they were talking. “Jack’s back in DeKalb. He wants Rex to set up medical testing in Chicago for people worried about parasites.” The door slid open.

“To calm people. It’s not wide-spread. I haven’t found one yet.”

Ianto nodded, crossing the room to Jack’s desk. “Will you contact Anwen about the computer? Gwen isn’t here.”

“Yeah.” The connection ended.

Office management and daycare, Ianto thought. Some days he wondered how many kids he had. He set the laptop on the desk as he sat. Inventory was sounding better and better. 

The computer announced, “Incoming call from Four.”

“Computer, accept.” It clicked. “It’s Ianto.”

“Where’s Jack?”

“In the states. No one else is here.” Ianto knew what the general’s issue was. With Rhys at Atmore, the general wanted his mother and Jack together. Whether he realized it or not. While they technically weren’t his parents, he grew up in the environment Gwen was trying to protect Trefor from. Time travel didn’t make parenting and stepparent relationships easier. 

“Nemo found something.”

Using the nickname Dan O’Malley hated made Ianto wonder if the attitude was directed at the captain of the Nautilus. “What?”

“The storm dislodged meteorites. One landed in a underwater trash pile and is transforming it into a coral reef. We should have found it earlier.” The general sounded frustrated. “Four monitors the immediate area for obvious threats.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I knew there was an issue with the meteorites.” The general sounded like Jack. Not that he would appreciate being compared to his father.

“They possibly have terraforming probe nanotechnology.” Neither Jack or John had any idea how. “Somehow remaining operational after the original broke up in the atmosphere. None of us could have anticipated this.” Pause. “The Sarkisians are working on it.”

“Speaking of,” the general said. “You’ve spoken to Jerard?”

The younger man flirted. As far as Ianto knew, Jerard was straight. Jack thought it was funny. “Why?”

“He has ridiculous expectations for Celeste. The girl wants to play with dolls and watch cartoons. She’s five. Jerard thinks it’s a waste of time.”

“Is it a Sarkisian thing?” The entire family had strange expectations.

“Partly. The cousins send ridiculous educational materials, including learning at least three languages.”

“Have you spoke to Ettie?”

The general groaned. “She doesn’t understand. Apparently, her parents gave her engineering toys when she was five.”

That fit with what Ianto knew of the cousins. “From what Luc has said about himself, their parents gave them aptitude tests to figure out what science they were good at and that was their focus. It wasn’t until we needed robotics that Luc admitted he was good at something other than physics.”

“They sent eval software. Celeste will eventually be an ecologist. I know that much from the original time line. Bobby has an aptitude for computers and robotics. He overrides the Internet nanny on Celeste’s computer so she can watch cartoons.”

Impressive. It reminded Ianto of Anwen and Trefor. “Let Bobby program the dolls for Four to replicate.” 

“He already did. Dolls, clothes, play sets he saw online. Jerard would have a heart attack seeing her room.”

Ianto smiled. “Sounds like Anwen.” She and Gwen were arguing over Trefor’s room.

“Hold on.” The connection went quiet.

I have nothing better to do then wait for you to complain. Ianto reminded himself the general was an older version of Trefor and Jack’s son. As bizarre as it was, the general was family. With Liam and Nessa stressed for different reasons, the general didn’t have anyone to vent to.

Thinking about the general’s family made Ianto realize he was technically a grandfather to Nessa’s child. Definitely bizarre. All part of marrying Jack.

“Nemo sent scan readings. Four’s sending them now.” 

Ianto accessed the hub from his laptop to review the information. 

“He found another reef forming.” The general sounded suspicious. “A landfill and two reefs? What are the odds?”

“Someone’s controlling it.” An equally paranoid idea came to mind. “It’s publicly known that Torchwood salvages materials from landfills. Allowing or ending the use of it is bad for us.”

“With the added benefit of distracting Jerard.”

Or that was the primary goal. “He has to be near DeKalb.” Ianto suddenly wondered how much of the situation was a distraction. “Are we all focused on this investigation?”

“Not entirely. You think it’s staged?”

“I don’t know. Someone needs to consider the possibility.” Ianto hoped he was wrong.

“I will have Liam review it and notify Azrael. He’s not directly involved.” The general took a moment. “Contact Rex and make sure the clones are secure.”


	12. Chapter 12

** Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales **

Gwen Cooper found an excuse to head home rather than the hub. She had nothing urgent to deal with and wanted some time to think. She used a hand-held device to check security before entering the building. Then walked toward the stairs. With her luck, she’d get trapped in the lift.

Being a working mother was complicated. Her and Rhys did what they could. Being the only parent made it worse. With Anwen returning to school, transportation had to be arranged. Their inability to have a civil conversation meant driving her was a bad idea. Ken or Ianto could manage with security measures like an escort drone. There was a time she would have considered that insane. John was probably the best option. 

Gwen still questioned trusting him with her daughter. Torchwood parenting experiences. She had to deal with her daughter’s future boyfriend babysitting her. It reminded her of John before Anwen was born. He was obsessed with Jack. Somehow her daughter dating one of Jack’s exs was the least strange of the situation.

Entering a quiet apartment felt good for a few minutes. Then the guilt set in. Her kids were at the hub with Ken. Trefor needed as much of her time as she could give him. Anwen could try the patience of a saint. The guilt was less stressful than another row with Anwen.

What am I going to do? She wondered, sitting at the table with a glass of juice. Rhys couldn’t come back until he acknowledged the problem and admitted he needed to change. Which wasn’t likely to happen. The only alternative was having Trefor move in with Jack and Ianto. Not only wouldn’t Anwen tolerate that, Gwen would rather have her son than her childish husband. 

Her mobile rang. Resigned, she answered it. “Cooper.”

“Ma’am, I am with POLRI.” The national police force of Indonesia. “A freight airplane en route to Kaula Lampur made an emergency landing in Jakarta.” He sounded unsure how to explain. 

She checked the Torchwood modification on her cell phone. He was calling from a police station in that region. “What happened?”

“The freight compartment is compromised by plants.” He hesitated. “They are eating the airplane.”

Gwen hoped that was a translation problem. “Can you send pictures?”

“No. It is in quarantine.”

She nodded. “Where did the plane originate?”

“Auckland, New Zealand.”

That unfortunately meant plants could be eating the plane. “I need time to make arrangements. Is the situation contained?”

Faint voices were audible. He probably covered his phone. “The quarantine hanger is now contaminated and we are evacuating the airport.”

“Hold.” She muted her phone. Then tapped her ear com. “Idrissa.” It clicked. 

“Go ahead.” He sounded tired.

“We have a potentially urgent situation at the Jakarta airport.” Gwen quickly explained. “Can Azrael handle it?”

“Yes. Is there anyone trapped in or near the plane?”

“I don’t know. I need to get the number so you can call him directly. I haven’t had time to check his story.”

“Aman will just go.”

“Thank you.” Gwen tapped her ear com. Then switched off mute. “A response team will be there shortly.”

“Thank you.” The call disconnected.

So much for quiet time, she thought as she stood. She tapped her ear com again. “Rex.” 

She was opening the door to the office by the time he responded. “Busy. How bad?”

“We may need to rebuild part of an airport.” Gwen quickly explained. “Azrael doesn’t do subtle. Depending on the situation, he may blow up the quarantine.” 

“We thankfully have an agreement with Indonesia.” Rex sounded distracted. “Can you make arrangements with Williams for repairs?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” The connection ended with a click.

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Rex Matheson stood in his office overlooking the lawn and the empty stables. Dealing with the United States reminded him of his CIA days. He had no idea why he wanted to run an office. The bureaucracy and politics were overwhelming. Politicians were the worst. Local, state or federal. It didn’t matter. They questioned his politics, party affiliation and loyalty to the United States. 

Thanks to Torchwood, he hated politicians regardless of nationality. Waiting on hold for the mayor’s assistant added to his annoyance. He intended to send Dr. Stone back to Chicago with a maintenance bot remotely controlled from Nova Scotia or Four. For reasons that hadn’t been explained, the mayor or someone in her office objected to the testing. 

“Director Matheson,” Zielinski said, “The mayor needs to consult with the CDC.”

Rex took a moment to compose his thoughts. “Dr. Stone works for the CDC.” She actually worked for DARPA, but the mayor of Chicago probably didn’t know that. “She was sent to DeKalb to assess the original problem.”

Zielinski hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Rex emphasized, “I am trying to prevent a public panic.” 

“I will get back to you.”

“Thank you.” Rex kept from groaning until the call ended.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. 

“Enter.” Rex turned toward the door.

It opened and Tosh entered looking tired. She held a tablet computer. “There’s another quarantine situation.” 

He walked over to her. “Where?”

“Auckland, New Zealand. All three started exhibiting erratic behavior while working at the airport.”

“Are they freight handlers?”

Tosh looked surprised. “Two are. One’s a mechanic.” A beat. “Owen’s making arrangements to transport them now. Initial scans indicate they’re similar to Chicago. The same treatment should work.”

Rex took a moment to think about quarantine details. Delaney was in secured quarantine. They had eight individual rooms. General quarantine had twenty five beds and the people from Papua New Guinea. Secondary had ten more beds.

“Do we have a plan for additional patient housing?”

Tosh handed Rex the tablet. “We still have control of the former Moss-Probert facility. It’s been used to shelter the homeless and people targeted by corporate research. It’s currently empty. And would need to be modified.”

“I will talk to Gwen.” They did not have the people to open a hospital.

“NHS doesn’t have the funding. And opening a hospital for people who aren’t British citizens…”

Rex nodded. The US had the same malfunctioning ideology. “I will contact the UN.” They had some funding and the personnel for international relief efforts. 


	13. Chapter 13

** (Medical Clinic); DeKalb, Illinois, USA **

Jack Harkness follows Kasey into the clinic. The small lobby is full. Not surprising after the CDC arrived and then called Torchwood. Limiting the details helped some but allowed the media to start speculating. 

Kasey held the door for Jack and closed it behind him. She spoke as she led down a hallway to a meeting room in the back. “We have twenty-five people right now reporting symptoms similar to the problem at the greenhouse. The crazy has motivated people to come in. We two unexpected pregnancies this morning. One mother was part way through her second trimester.” She opened the door and held it. “The insanity has some benefit. Our lawyer is editing our usual disclaimer to include any health problems you might find. Intentional or not.”

“Anyone showing indications of other conditions will still need conventional evaluation and treatment.” He couldn’t reveal they had the ability to quickly diagnosis. They didn’t have the people or equipment to scan everyone. 

Kasey nodded. “Is this enough room?”

It would be easier to scan the waiting room all at once. But talking to people individually kept secrets and gave him the opportunity to question more people.

“Yes. I need to arrange for the tech delivery. It won’t take long.” Luc had a mini maintenance bot with a portal device on standby. It would scan patients, upload to a drone connected to the network and send details to Nova Scotia.

She nodded. “We appreciate it.”

Jack waited until she closed the door. Then used his wrist-strap to connect with a satellite. Using his exact location, the bot could be transported into the room. It wasn’t generally safe for people, but it worked for bots. One appeared on the table with a hand-held medical scanner.

His ear com clicked. “Captain Harkness,” Eryn said, her voice slightly distorted by static. “Luc scanned the building. There is a woman in a room by herself with a parasite.”

“Thank you.” He needed to think of a way to review her first. 

Jack grabbed the scanner. Then stepped out of the conference room and looked the direction he came. Kasey was at a nurses’ station halfway between him and the door to the waiting room. “I’m ready.”

She looked surprised as she walked back to him.

“I would like to start with patients already in rooms?”

She looked unsure of how to ask something. “I know I’m already asking a lot. But I have a patient that needs an emergency psychological care. She doesn’t have insurance and the options for people in her situation are not good.”

Jack hoped that was the patient he needed to move. “I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” She lead across the hall to exam room four and knocked. She then opened it. “Chloe, this is Captain Harkness from Torchwood. He’s here to help with testing.”

The early twenty-something sat up on the cot. Her posture and tone said she’d been traumatized somehow. The over-sized clothes suggested sexual assault. “Can he make it stop?”

“He might be able to get you somewhere that can.”

Jack programmed the hand-held device. It offered more options then his wrist-strap. It took a moment to give him the information he already had. While he needed the compare the results to Zeke directly, he suspected it affected her central nervous system differently. Jack doubted the parasite had control. “You tested positive.” He looked up at her. “With your permission, I would like to transport you back to Torchwood London. The doctors there are developing a treatment. Free of charge.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded too quickly. “I kept saying there was something wrong.”

“I need to make arrangements.”

Jack backed out of the room. After dealing with Zeke, he need better than to underestimate her. Jack shut the door. 

Kasey lowered her voice. “Positive for what?”

Jack motioned back toward the conference room. He spoke as they stepped inside. “A parasite. She needs to be quarantined immediately. We don’t know the transmission criteria, but she is highly contagious to any one at-risk.”

He used his wrist-strap to modify his ear com to contact London. It clicked. “Rex.”

“Busy.” His voice was distorted by static.

“I found another one. I need a containment unit immediately. Both the patient and the medical facility are consenting to transport.”

“Give me a few minutes.” The connection clicked off.

Kasey watched him with her arms crossed. “You knew before walking in there.”

“I found out right before I spoke to you. I need everything you have on her. Starting with her psychological problems.” Based on Zeke’s behavior and her clothes, Jack already had an idea.

“She had a sudden change in sexual behavior. It goes against her religious beliefs. This is the third time she’s come in for STD testing and plan B.”

“Has she given you a list of sexual partners?” 

Kasey shook her head slightly. “Chloe finally admitted to dissociating prior to meeting men and waking in strange places. Something about her last sexual encounter pushed her to the edge.” 

“Did she tell you where she woke up?”

“It’s in her file.” She took a moment. “Is this thing sexually transmitted?”

“Bodily fluids. What we know is limited. The parasite causes dramatic personality changes.”

“In people who aren’t sexually active? What about people who are?”

Jack wished he knew. “Not enough information.”

Kasey looked uneasy. “But unusual changes in sexual behavior is a possible indication?”

“Yes.”

“Then we have a serious problem.” She paused, thinking. “Legally, I can’t give you names. If I give you locations, can you scan buildings?”

“Yes.” Jack needed to consult with Luc. The initial community scans failed. They needed a closer, more individual approach. “I will need you to contact anyone that’s infected. Consent means we can bypass the bureaucracy. Anyone objecting is a public health hazard and has to be removed by force. That takes more time and effort.”


	14. Chapter 14

** Boarded Up Apartment Complex; Chicago, Illinois, USA **

John Hart entered through the back door with a broken lock carrying a twenty-four pack of bottled water and three large pizzas. Random scans and discreet inquiries only got him so far. He needed informants. Typical contacts took time and a lot more than free food. The homeless were less reliable, but they often went unnoticed. 

While his addictions hadn’t left him lost and desperate, he understood. Something most people couldn’t. The need overrode survival instincts. For those using or drinking to feel or forget, it was worse. Addicts had to want help before it was too late to get it. He was lucky. Most weren’t.

This group of homeless people were mixed circumstances. Runaways, addicts and the mentally ill. They huddled together for warmth and the need for companionship. Living outdoors in Chicago wasn’t an easy life. Surviving it required a range of knowledge and skills.

They used an apartment near the back. DJ stepped into the doorway. Hinges were all that remained of the door. 

“What do ya want for it?” He eyed the food. John suspected the young man was a former sex worker that’s addiction spiraled out of control. 

“Information.”

DJ found that suspicious. “What kind?”

“Don’t matter,” Ellie said. At forty, she was the oldest of the group. “Let him in.”

DJ back up. Although small, he was a fighter. A scan previously showed he carried a knife and makeshift weapons. 

John set the water and food down in front of Ellie. She would distribute it. A girl and young woman watched him from the other side of the room. They were afraid of men. Their medical scans said they had a reason to be.

“Ask.” Ellie reached for the top pizza box.

“Have you noticed anyone, anything, unusual?” He explained the location of the museum and business district linked the the landfill and the university although he no longer thought any of it was accidental. He even wondered about the parasite. “Anyone who stands out?”

She motioned the others to join her. “There’s a religious group offering rides to a shelter. Anyone who goes with them hasn’t come back.”

That sounded promising. Corporations in Europe used the homeless for test subjects. “How do I find them?”

The pizza was more interesting than him. They moved in, focusing on it. 

DJ described church vans but didn’t know where it was located.

“Thanks.”

How do I find the church? He wondered. Ianto or Liam. It gave him an excuse to check on Anwen. The irony of him trying to keep her out of trouble wasn’t lost on him. 

He was in the alley when his wrist-strap chimed. He opened it. “I didn’t do it.”

Jack sounded stressed. “Have you found anything?”

“Nothing solid. That by itself is suspicious. If the medical issues or the landfill was accidental, I would have found something. After days of scanning people, I have a few pieces of alien tech and several harmless aliens on holiday. Keara on the station let them through in exchange for spare parts for one of the ships.”

“I found three more…”

John teleported, ending the connection. After hearing something faint but noticeable. Moving confirmed it. Someone approached wearing stealth tech. The type had two weaknesses. Both involved sound that most couldn’t hear. In circumstances where the tech was likely, people wore detectors designed to listen for the buzz. The second sound was caused by static associated with clothing.

They hadn’t expected him to move. The stealth shields required something more creative than stun pellets. John opened his wrist-strap, scanned the shields and uploaded the details to the satellite network. A drone appeared overhead moments later. Except it wasn’t Canada. They had Keara on the station’s attention and she’d lost people to stealth shields.

The military drone hit both stealth shields with a pulse. Both men appeared moments before a white light from a transport beam grabbed them. 

John opened programmed his wrist-strap to act as a com. “Jack Harkness.”

“What happened?”

“My new informants sold me out.” Not that it surprised him.

“We need something quickly. We’re up to fifteen in quarantine from three countries.”

John closed his wrist-strap and teleported back into the room where he left the pizza. He was done playing games. They knew something. His reappearance startled everyone but Ellie.

Are you a vet? He wondered. If he learned anything from Sal, military vets could be loyal long after their service ended. Even if they were at odds with their governments. “The identity of those men is worth more than pizza and bottled water.”

“Corporate security,” Ellie said in between bites of pizza. “They offered us apartments and food.”

He wondered if they would have followed through. “You waited to see who would win?”

She shrugged.

“If I offer a better deal, will tell me who they work for?”

“Torchwood cleared the UK homeless shelters, set up rehabs and specialty medical centers. I’m crazy,” Ellie motioned to the others, “But they’re not.” 

“You have Internet access.”

She nodded. “Homeless outreach programs teach computer skills.”

John opened his wrist-strap and connected his ear com to the satellite network. “Keara.”

“What?”

“I have five to transport to London medical. They have information on the two in stealth gear. It’s not safe to stay here.” 

The connection crackled. “Quarantine?”

“No. But they need medical evals.”

Static filled the connection for a few minutes. “The men have transponders.” Keara laughed and it was not a pleasant sound. 

John looked at Ellie. “Who are you?”

“I was a first year resident dreaming of being a psychiatrist when I had a psychotic break.” She shook her head. “I diagnosed myself and sought treatment. But my career was over before it started.”

John suspected there was more to it. “We have a psychiatric facility.”

“Is the person dangerous?”

“Potentially.” He quickly repeatedly what Ellie told him.

“Sounds like she needs a padded room in Nigeria. I will notify Rex.”

Moments later, the five disappeared in beams of white light.

Keara swore. “Get back to Cardiff. Anwen is trying to reconfigure the satellite network.” The connection dropped.

Which one? John wondered before teleporting home.


	15. Chapter 15

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Rex Matheson sat at his desk reviewing investigation updates and reports. Damage at the Jakarta airport was thankfully minimal.  Azrael was able to contain the plants and the Sarkisians were reviewing scan data.  Four already made repairs using maintenance bots and normal operations resumed. Williams was investigating the freight plane in Aukland and would go to Kaula Lampur after. Connelly reported cultural and linguistic problems investigating in Papua New Guinean. O’Malley found more evidence the meteorites were somehow controlled. Jack’s DeKalb investigation located three more parasites and the US questioned the findings. The objections were combined with claims that Torchwood abducted ten people from Chicago, but the bureaucrat refused to explain how he knew the people were missing or why he thought Torchwood was involved. Media from Chicago area escalated with accusations that Torchwood caused the problems suggesting the US was laying the groundwork to counter government involvement. All of it resulted in an increase in law enforcement requests. Rex was next in line for on-site investigating. 

A knock sounded and the door opened. He looked up expecting to see CeCe. They had employment issues to discuss again. Instead Davy entered. With everything happening, they had no plans. Rex wondered if it was related to her family business. 

“Hey.”

Davy crossed the room and sat across from him. “Hey.” 

“Problems with the housing construction?” Rex doubted it. Her family received the contract on urging from Whitehall and reports indicated it was right on schedule. It was one of three projects the government suddenly had funding for.

“We received information that Torchwood was bypassing community labor again to build another expansion.”

Rex groaned. He didn’t need the headache. “We have no plans to open additional offices or facilities.” Although the media kept reporting otherwise. Generally tabloids. He blamed slow news days when it reached mainstream publications.

“A fifty bed in-patient medical facility in Cardiff.”

How did the quarantine expansion leak? That was guaranteed to anger UK isolationists. “Torchwood has a medical facility there. Formally Moss-Probert. It’s not currently used.” He gave it a moment. “How did you get volunteered for this?” He didn’t think Delagarza operated outside of the London area.

“Someone is under the impression I have connections with Torchwood,” Davy said wryly.

Rex knew he was missing something. While their relationship wasn’t a secret, they didn’t advertise. “This is your way of telling me I’ve been ignoring you?”

“That too.” Davy looked unsure of how to say something. “I’ve heard rumors Torchwood has a new policy against dating people perceived as a security threats.”

The memo leaked. Not surprising. “I asked employees to report attempts to gain access.” 

“Like the problems with my family. The cell phone hack attempt. The bad information about Muriel Grace.”

And a few other problems she didn’t know. “What are you worried about?”

Davy hesitated. “Us. Is our relationship going anywhere?”

Rex had no idea how to answer that. With a global crisis underway, he didn’t have time to figure it out. “I don’t know. Torchwood controls my life.” The fact that she needed an excuse to meet and have the conversation proved that. “Right now I’m coordinating an international investigation.” Pause.  “We can talk when it calms down.”

She nodded. Something about her body language made him wonder. He replayed the conversation over in his head. Are you trying to tell me something? 

“My parents asked me to invite you to supper.” 

That definitely said there was a problem. They didn’t like him. “Why?”

“Mum says I’m not getting any younger.”

“She’s staging an intervention?”

“The opposite. She’s hinting at wedding plans.”

Rex knew Davy was trying to tell him something. “She picked out a vicar to perform the exorcism?” Something at Jack and Ianto’s wedding reportedly disturbed the business manager enough to request a religious cleansing of some kind.

Davy laughed. 

A knock interrupted.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.”  She stands. “Call me when you have time.”

That entire conversation was wrong, Rex thought as Davy walked back to the door. His thoughts kept going back to her comment about the memo. Why would you mention that right before asking about our relationship. Something she never did. They both avoided discussing family and commitment for different reasons. 

Davy opened the and left moments before CeCe entered looking puzzled. She crossed the room and claimed a chairs across from him. 

“Problem?”

“Your friend.” She hesitated.

“Just say it.”

“She was waiting for fifteen, twenty minutes. Struggling with something. I…” Pause. “I thought she intended to end your relationship.”

That’s why you mentioned the memo and your family, Rex realized. He tapped his ear com. “Liam Doughtery.” Rex didn’t know if he wore an ear com normally. Williams was in New Zealand.

When nothing happened, Rex said, “Jeannette Dove.”

“What?” She sounded tired and overwhelmed. Considering her Rift ability and history of coping problems, that wasn’t good.

“Liam needs to find his research on Davy Delagarza, her family and business. Someone is trying to use her to get information from me.”

“Seriously? Talk to your girlfriend. Liam’s too busy to stalk her on social media for you.”

Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Jeannette sounded distracted. “I don’t care if your father or his cousins think that’s a good idea.”

He then remembered she was caring for Bobby and Celeste Sarkisian while Nigeria tried to find a nanny. “Davy’s family is somehow connected to Whitehall. They’ve been involved with at least one system breach.”

“Liam’s busy.” The connection ended.

Rex tapped his ear com again. “Ianto Jones.”

“Here.” He sounded anxious.

“I need you to check in with Nessa and find out what the situation is there.”

“Send her an email.” The connection ended.

CeCe suggested, “Rachael. She’s familiar with Four.”

Rex nodded. She transferred from there. “Find her.”

She focused on her mobile and sending a text message.

“Have you reviewed the UN recommendation list?”

“It’s from representatives. Offering military and intelligence ops. Russia offered a current FSB investigator who’s father and uncle were in the KGB.”

Probably to make anyone else they offered look better. “Any one good?”

“A Dutch woman who’s family hunted Nazis,” CeCe replied. “She comes highly recommended by at least three countries and the ICC.”

That sounded promising. “We need more people soon.” A conversation they had had repeatedly. Rex needed to ask Idrissa about the operative Azrael had in Canada. The unnamed field agent was the only one in North America.

“As I’ve said before, I’m limited by who the British government allows into England. We need recruitment offices in places with fewer visa restrictions and ways to reach people that wouldn’t apply. Xiu Jiang, Eryn and Kailen Sylla, Liam Doughtery, Jeannette Dove. They wouldn’t have come to us.”

Another recurring conversation. Recruits versus applicants. “You have an idea?” 

CeCe nodded. “Hire someone to coordinate with schools and recruit like everyone else. Open HR offices in less powerful countries with Torchwood agreements.” Pause. “We need to go to job fairs for kids just leaving care. That’s where we’re going to find people that don’t expect life to play by the rules.”

A similar discussion led to hiring CeCe. Rex added, “Inner city kids in general.”

CeCe nodded. “I have a growing list of people I would interview if I could. With an office in Calais, I could meet with EU citizens. But we would need a facility where they could work.” Pause. “Right now, we have a dozen countries wanting Torchwood offices. In South America, Africa, Asia. In most cases, the cost would be a fraction of European locations and the governments want us there.”

For national security and political reasons. Rex needed to talk to Jack. They had records of offices that were closed decades ago that could be reopened. The problem was finding and evaluating them. “Any field agent possibilities?”

“It depends. What do you think of the French Foreign Legion?”


	16. Chapter 16

** NIU Environmental Research Farm; Dekalb, Illinois, USA **

Jack Harkness scanned the building before entering. While the contaminants were gone, he had no idea how it happened. With it unresolved, the building offered a quiet meeting place. At least for people not panicking. It also gave Jack to opportunity to scan Jerard. His behavior wasn’t known. Flirting with everyone, whether or not he was romantically interested might be normal for him.

Jerard entered the small storage room. “This place is impressive.” He sounded American instead of French Canadian. He looked like a stereotypical professor with dark rim glasses and elbow patches on his tweed jacket. The costume couldn’t hide his height or Armenia ancestry. 

“Dr. Stein?”

“The one and only, Kapitan.”

That reminded Jack of the report Jerard sent in German. It was either a joke or an indication of the psychological problems his family thought he had. 

With no effort to conceal it, Jack scanned the thirty-year-old with a hand-held scanner. Jerard needed to eat better and have more sunlight, but nothing urgent.

“No mushroom spores or parasites. I’ve very careful what gardens I till.” Jerard gave it a moment. “Is this how you treat all your playmates or was it because I flirted with Ianto?”

“What do you know about the parasite, spores and landfill?” 

“The spores and garbage conversion are based on similar processes. Both involving nanotechnology. Whereas the parasites appear to be artificially created. No evidence of nanotech. But it works similar to the mushroom spores. The parasite attaches to the central nervous system at the base of the skull. Depending on uncertain criteria, it takes partial or complete control of the person.”

Jack knew that much.

“The scans labeled Chloe from the clinic are very different. Her body is fighting the parasite. It suggests she has effective antibodies for what appears to be an artificial pathogen.” Jerard took a moment. “The parasite’s unusually adaptive and will eventually overcome the resistance.”

“It may be psychological.” Based on the nurse in Chicago. Unless he had the same antibodies.

Jerard found that unlikely. “More importantly, how did she get exposed? It’s unlikely she was casually kissing people. The psyche profile shows no indication of self-destructive behavior. Unless she was raped, she was infected in a different way.”

“What about the spores? Could the parasite have been transmitted that way?” Jack needed to ask Owen about that. While the parasite was highly contagious, it didn’t affect everyone exposed. 

Jerard nodded. “But it still doesn’t explain Chloe’s exposure.” He looked like he rethought that. “Have you seen her apartment?”

Not yet. “Check for houseplants?”

“I found no direct connection between the environmental project and the museum. Say someone wanted to test Torchwood. Giving us three semi-related problems causing a potential epidemic guaranteed we’d respond.” Jerard paused. “The proximity and timing indicates one problem. While we go down the Occam’s Razor checklist, it shows how we operate. Procedures, personnel.”

Jack thought he was paranoid. “How does that explain the other three countries?”

“That brings us back to how many problems we have. If the island is the source, than anyone exposed to the nanotech, or anything affected by the nanotech, could be a carrier. Individual circumstances altered the result.” Jerard gave it a moment. “Or the whole mess is orchestrated. How do we respond? What countries or events are prioritized? What do we do with the infected? At what point do we call the Red Cross and Crescent, Doctors without Borders and other international health organizations and ask for all cases involving parasites or unknown pathogens?”

An older version of Luc, Jack thought. “We have no way of knowing with the information we currently have.”

“We may never know. Solid, irrefutable proof is likely impossible. Regardless, information that can be used against Torchwood is out there. Sooner or later, someone is going to take credit for the bioterrorism threat. Whether it actually is or not.”

“We’re also at risk of over thinking it.”

Jerard nodded. “Three dimensional chess meets the Kobyashi Maru.”

That sounded like a Star Trek reference. “If it was intentional, we’re dealing with a group.”

“Are you familiar with Keara? The one that lives in Nigeria.”

Jack hadn’t expected that. “Yeah.”

“She thinks we’re up against a think tank targeting me.”

That generated a list of questions starting with how he knew that. “Why?”

“They’re distracting me because they can’t control me.”

Jack realized then he’d been maneuvered. If Jerard started with that, Jack wouldn’t have believed it. “Someone caused this to distract you?” Pause. “Sake of argument, why would it be worth the effort?”

“It wouldn’t.”

Jack had an idea. “Your specialty is chemistry?”

Jerard nodded. “The landfill is a research chemist’s dream come true. It could distract me for years.”

That sounded more reasonable. “Where is Keara?” Last Jack heard, she was back in Nigeria. 

“At the castle. She’s not coming here and you’re not welcome there.”

Azrael wouldn’t be happy. “I need to talk to her.”

Jerard found his mobile. “I would prefer if it wasn’t known she’s in the US. If the group is associated with Beaupre’s black ops or children of his researchers, they have ways of getting Torchwood information. Her ability might not protect her.” It rang.

You care about her, Jack thought. It reminded Jack of what happened to Eryn. Between Portland and the failed military attack on Nova Scotia, no one would target her again. Which might be Jerard’s intention. Con artists used people’s expectations against them. Jack manipulated people that way in both Time Agency and Torchwood.

“Jack wants to talk to you. I’m switching it to speaker.”

“Hi.” The youngest Keara sounded so much different from the soldier on the station and the insane time traveler. “You want to know about the think tank.” That didn’t require a psychic ability. 

“How much involves Jerard?”

“I don’t know. The goal was to use his ego against him.”

Jack could believe that much. “How does any of this accomplish that?”

“I disrupted the plan.” She sounded increasingly uneasy. “Jerard, the computer says there’s a security problem.”

An alarm then sounded in the background.

A red light sparked in Jerard’s eyes as red energy swirled around him. In the moment before he disappeared, he looked like he wanted to kill someone. It showed he had a lot in common with his cousin and someone was going to find that out the hard way.

Jack used his wrist-strap to connected to the network and the station. “Keara.”

“What?” The soldier sounded annoyed.

“Check the area surrounding DeKalb. Someone just threatened Jerard’s facility.”

“That will take time.” The connection clicked off.

The wait gave Jack time to replay the conversation in his head. If the landfill targeted Jerard, was the spores and the parasite coincidental? Considering the possibilities was maddening. Ego or not, he was right, they had no way of knowing without more information. Even with it, solid conclusions might not be possible. Anyone taking credit had an agenda that didn’t mean they were involved. It wasn’t less crazy a second time. But it made Jerard’s approach the conversation understandable.

Click. “A building listed as a decommissioned prison in a small, unimportant town called Lyric Valley blew up leaving a crater. From the scan readings, I couldn’t prove their a was a building there nevertheless a facility. Anyone in it or within a few hundred feet is gone.”

Jack hesitated. “Can you tell if the younger version of yourself is still alive?” If not, the Sarkisians were the least of the bombers worries. Azrael would be out for blood. 


	17. Chapter 17

** Artic Observatory; Prince of Wales Island, Nunavut, Canada **

Jerard Sarkisian and Keara arrived in the computer room in a burst of red energy. He rarely struggled with his temper. He’d even convinced more than one person over the years he didn’t have anger problems. But he had an overwhelming urge to find the people that targeted him and threatened her.

Alarms briefly filled the computer lab as Keara clung to him with her face pressed to his shoulder. She would have easily escaped without his help. Logic did nothing to lessen the adrenaline or fear.

The computer clicked. “What did you do?!” Ettie demanded.

“I destroyed the research files and the people trying to take them.” Although Jerard admitted he wasn’t certain of their motivations. The facility had been unsecured for decades. 

“You are not staying here.”

“Keara needed a safe place. I’m not welcome in Nigeria.” Jerard kissed the top of her head. “I need to go.”

Keara griped Jerard. “Ettie, this is about your family secrets. Your grandfather created more than a genetic connection to a supernatural entity. People like Beaupre and this group think your family knows more about it than you do.”

She was keeping his secrets, Jerard thought. If her psychic ability gave her that much, she knew the rest.

“Beaupre tried manipulating his daughter and Art Sarkisian. That’s what the research facility was underneath Victoria Park initially. It’s why Bobby and Celeste.” She looked at Jerard apologetically. “And others were created. They thought they could exploit the genetic connection. But it doesn’t work that way.” Pause. “These people want technology that can manipulate reality. They thought Jerard could be bribed into giving it to them. When that didn’t work, they told him he had a daughter and tried to use her as leverage.” Pause. “He destroyed Beaupre’s international black ops network to save her.”

Saving Celeste was an act of redemption not heroism. The first time he saw her on a video conference call, he knew what he had to do. 

“How do we find the kids?”

The one thing they truly had in common. They were angry, self-absorbed loners who loved their family.

“I don’t know.”

Jerard needed more information and a place to work. “The people who affected the DeKalb landfill might know.” 

Keara looked up at him. “There’s a Torchwood office north of Kuala Lampur. We can go there. Director Matheson needs an office outside of Europe.”

“When was it used last?”

“The 50s. Malaysia gained it’s independence from Great Britain in 1957.”

Jerard hesitated. “You just know that?”

“Keara on the station knows that. She’s checking to see how we access the facility. There was a problem with an airplane in Jakarta that was headed for Kuala Lampur. She was already looking into it.”

Jerard hated to admit limitations. “I don’t know anything about Malaysia.”

She smiled. “You will learn.”

“The space station just transferred a file. It’s in a old mission.” Ettie sounded annoyed. “An imperialist set up a hobbyist research facility.” Pause. “He definitely sounds like you, cousin. Egotistical, self-absorbed. He went to what he considered a primitive country to study the locals.”

Jerard ignored the insult. “How is it connected to Torchwood?”

“He found alien technology and unexplained plants in the area. The facility was taken over by Torchwood primarily as a monitoring post. It was never solved. They closed the doors in 1957.” Ettie paused. “I have the coords and how to open it.” 

“Will you talk to Luc about bots? Cleaning and security?”

“Maybe if you stopped asking his financee to run off to France with you, you could ask him.”

Jerard smiled. “Just welcoming her to the family.”

Ettie groaned. “Keara, it’s not to late go home.” 

“Jerard reminds me of home.”

Ettie laughed. “There you go, cousin. You found a woman that understands you need a padded room and a hug me jacket.”

Keara whispered. “Sorry.”

He lightly rubbed her back. “I need the information.”

“Check the device on the table. I transferred the details.” 

Keara reluctantly released him. Jerard moved over to the table and picked up the hand-held. The technology was a definite improvement on what he had gotten used to under the prison. 

“The Keara on the station is making arrangements with Four for the tech we need,” Keara said.

Jerard needed to ask her how that connection worked. He questioned the timing and the motivation. She suddenly knew he was in danger as the older version of herself was reviewing a tactical expansion of the network. Then when they needed a safe place to go, the older version had all the information ready to transfer. 

“Time to go,” Ettie announced. “Don’t come back.” The intercom clicked off.

Jerard held out his hand to Keara. “Our castle awaits, milady.”


	18. Chapter 18

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Jack Harkness portaled in near the stables. He had a lot of questions after the conversation with Jerard and how it ended. The US government knew more than it was admitting. The government and military personnel in DeKalb proved that. The CDC sent a doctor to investigate the mushrooms and then contacted Torchwood. Knowing there was a potential epidemic, the US wasn’t cooperating. They either knew the parasites were difficult to transmit or they were trying to hide what caused them. Jack suspected both.

His thoughts wandered as he walked for the front door. The group that caused the landfill problem probably wanted Jerard’s attention. The CDC’S investigation of the mushrooms suggested it wasn’t directly connected to the parasites. The government wanted to keep that a secret. The spores were annoying but they weren’t life-threatening. Which offered the possibility of a whistle-blower. 

Jack entered the building trying to wrap his mind around the possibility that three separate groups had access to similar technology and were trying to manipulate circumstances in a small US town most people probably hadn’t heard of. It came back to why DARPA sent a doctor to the CDC in Chicago. If she knew about the parasites, it was unlikely she would have called Torchwood about the mushrooms.

His ear com clicked. “Jack,” Rex said. “Go to Owen’s lab.”

“On my way.” It was where Jack had in mind anyway. Owen and Tosh had the patients and access to all the information. 

And Dr. Stone. The American doctor had a lot of explaining to do. If she knew about the parasites, she had information they needed. 

Jack was half way to the medical and science department when Rex approached. He looked tired. Dealing with typical bureaucracy was bad enough. An international crisis complicated by a country refusing to cooperate was a lot worse. 

“Keara on the station ID’d the men that attacked John in Chicago. They work for a military contractor based out of Chicago. I suspect they are running black ops associated with DARPA. Similar to the British Army unit that recovered alien technology.”

“What would grabbing John accomplish?” Jack wondered. “Nova Scotia is the nearest office and they are known for aggressive rescue missions.”

“The US representative said we were not authorized to have an agent in Chicago. Or anyone other than you in the states. Except that was never discussed. It deteriorated from there. The US has withdrawn it’s request for Torchwood assistance, barred all personnel without US passports or visas from the US and has demanded all American citizens returned immediately.” Rex shook his head. “The UN is dealing with it. The ICC reports that more than one country has asked for a war crime investigation accusing an unspecified US company of creating a bioweapon in violation of international treaties.”

That reminded Jack of what Jerard said. “Do we have anything suggesting it’s intentional?”

“No. Keara on the station found files from an old Malaysia Torchwood office suggesting a similar problem a hundred years or more ago. Recent scans from Four and the Nautilus indicate someone is controlling some of the meteorites.”

Jack wondered if it was an industrial accident. “Maybe someone thought they had all of the meteorites and intentionally activated the probe nanotech. But the storm disrupted it.”

“Tosh offered a similar theory.”

“The landfill was one group. The government is directly or indirectly involved with the parasite. And the mushroom was a whistle-blower familiar with everyone involved.”

Rex nodded. “That suggests someone familiar with Beaupre’s network.”

A thought occurred to Jack. It was no crazier than anything else he had considered since the DeKalb situation started. “What if we’re dealing with another Sarkisian? An adult. The way that family protects each other, the whistle-blower might be part of the group that targeted him.”

“I wondered that myself.” Rex said, leading into the medical and science section.

The room was crowded. Not just Torchwood researchers from the look of it. Someone let reporters in. 

Owen yelled from the other side of the room. “Shut up!” The room went silent. He lowered his voice, but it still projected. “All of the patients from New Zealand, Indonesia, Papua New Guinea and the United States are potentially contagious and a danger to themselves and anyone around them. The United States is the only country demanding we violate quarantine and send people back. That would violate international law. We are the only medical facility on the planet with the knowledge and resources necessary to contain and potentially treat the illnesses. We have at least three distinctive pathogens with a common origin.”

Reporters asked questions at the same time.

“Enough!” Owen declared. When it quieted again, he lowered his voice. “We don’t know whether any of the illnesses were intentional. We need more time, research and cooperation. Any country, with a Torchwood agreement or not, can contact us to report illnesses that appear similar to the symptoms we have distributed. I don’t care about politics or bureaucracy or media ratings. People have died. More could die. We need to focus on saving lives.”

The reporters launched into more questions.

“You. You’re an American?” Owen asked loudly. “When Dr. Stone, with the CDC, told the Americans they were going home, one requested asylum. She’s terrified of getting sent back. Before she was diagnosed with a parasite, she went to a clinic with severe symptoms. They couldn’t help her. Without insurance, she had no options.” 

“What about the others?” The reporter demanded.

Owen took a moment to contain his temper. “Their conditions are so severe, they are criminally insane.”

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Ianto Jones carried two mugs of coffee into the conference room. If Gwen didn’t need help, he needed to relieve Ken. Michael was fussy. Trefor was angry. He wanted his flight simulator back and refused to do the lessons Gwen gave him. His Rift ability was thankfully not triggered by emotions.

“Thanks,” Gwen said, accepting a mug. 

Ianto set his mug down and sat across from her. “Anything new?”

“The general is having trouble connecting what happened in Auckland and Jakarta to the island. He already notified the airports not to accept cargo including artifacts, meteorites or plants of unknown origin. The cargo appears mundane. Except for the sudden growth of plants that made several people sick, ate half an airplane and destabilized a hanger.” She shook her head. “The freight handlers in Auckland have a different condition then the security guards in Jakarta.”

“Maybe the plants were different at take off and landing. The nanotech modifies what it comes in contact with.”

She held up her hands. “Azrael destroyed the plane and all possible evidence in Jakarta. To protect the people and the airport. But he’s not confident the security guards were exposed to the plane or quarantine.”

“What about the pilot or crew?”

“That’s the weird part. The pilot appeared to be the only person on-board. He walked away without a scratch.”

Ianto checked his tablet computer. “Zeke had antibodies against the mushrooms that Owen turned into a treatment. Another one.” He moved through the reports until he found a name. “Chloe had antibodies against the parasite. Her body was fighting it.” He scrolled through. “A nurse at the Chicago hospital resisted Zeke because of a moral objection to kissing a patient.”

“The pilot’s in quarantine as a possible carrier.” 

“He’s not cooperating?” 

Gwen shook her head slightly. “He’s facing possible charges for transporting a bioweapon in two countries. He requested an embassy representative and an attorney.”

“What about cross contamination? Could the freight handlers have transferred the plants by accident?”

“The general didn’t find anything.”

Ianto hoped he was wrong. “What if they loaded it on an earlier plane?”

“I don’t know.” Gwen tapped her ear com.


	19. Chapter 19

**Torchwood London; London, England**

Rex Matheson stepped into the botany lab, the closest London had to a garden. He needed fresh air, but it was February and London. The plants reminded him that botanicals were the one common thread they had so far. He rubbed the back of his neck wishing he could shut it off. But taking more than a few minutes risked lives.

An alarm sounded. The computer intercom clicked. “Medical emergency. Securing affected areas until contained.”

Rex hoped that announcement was limited to the medical and science department. He tapped his ear com. “What’s happening.”

Tosh sounded worried. “Dr. Stone tried releasing the American Owen’s using to develop a parasite treatment.”

Why? Chloe was the one patient not willing to leave.

“The computer automatically did an intensive scan of Dr. Stone and found a parasite. Owen thinks the difference is long-term exposure.”

How did they miss that?

“She’s contained,” Owen declared. “The girl is the best chance I have at a treatment. Removing the parasites is more complicated than surgery. The hosts need antibodies similar to Chloe’s. It’s why she has any independent thoughts at all.”

One of theories of the parasites was a larger organism. Dr. Stone’s actions supported it. “I need a copy of the security footage. Is the girl or the doctor hurt?”

“No.” Tosh sounded distracted. “I’m looking at CCTV. Based on behavior, I think Chloe sensed the other parasite. She pushed her emergency button before Dr. Stone said anything.”

“Owen,” Jack said, “There could be a psychological component to resistance. That could affect brain chemistry.”

“You think her religious conviction is helping her fight the parasite?” Owen found that unlikely.

“Not what she believes but the strength of her beliefs,” Jack said. “The nurse in Chicago resisted Zeke in a similar way. Chris was flirting with everyone he was remotely attracted to. But not me because of my ring.”

“Say for a moment that’s not your vanity. That means the parasite has to fight the host for control…” Owen trailed off. “A woman determined to be celibate in an openly sexual culture would have to resist herd behavior.” Pause. “Based on interviews, Zeke Delaney is the complete opposite. He needs to conform.”

“How did the parasite get established in Chloe?” Tosh asked. “If it’s a larger organism, why would it want her?”

Jack said, “Ego, control or selfishness.”

Rex didn’t like the sound of that. “The parasites are not only connected to a larger organism, it’s sentient?”

Tosh said, “That could explain why someone created the parasites. A hive mind capable of controlling it’s drones over large distances and completely overriding individuality would be very useful for a military. Like compliance devices but contagious.”

Rex pinched the bridge of his nose wishing that didn’t sound plausible. “Why expose college students? Soldiers dedicated to god and country would be more effective.”

Owen replied. “They may not have anticipated the sexual component of the transition. Dr. Stone is stable. Zeke went from homophobic to flirting with anyone he could potentially expose.”

Tosh added, “Having sex with another woman is what pushed Chloe to the edge. She’s suicidal because she’s morally opposed to her own behavior.” Her tone said she understood. “If she’s gay or bisexual, the fear of family rejection would make it worse.” Pause. “We need to check for suicide clusters. If the parasites infected a community with a strict traditional cultural, it could be devastating.”

Rex did not look forward to the conversation he needed to have with the US representative. That part of the situation sounded more and more like a military research project. An affected DARPA doctor fit with the theory. If Dr. Stone was an example of long-term exposure, it was possible other government employees or even soldiers had parasites and were potentially contagious. That could explain why the US was trying to hide it.

“Why did the CDC contact Torchwood?”

“Ego,” Owen said. “The organism underestimated us or wanted to infect our investigator. It could explain the attack on John.”

Rex released, “The same type of scan that found Dr. Stone’s parasite needs to be used on all the other patients, and the homeless people John requested transported. One of them has psychological problems.”

“We need to scan all Americans,” Owen said.

“Start with the building. Scan everyone. I need to discuss setting up a scanner at Heathrow.” Rex realized they needed them in airports in general. Between the parasites and what happened in Auckland, scanning passengers sounded like a solid idea. Considering objections to the TSA, he doubted they could get formal approval in most countries. Keara on the station would have to set something up through the network.

Privacy versus public safety was a dangerous topic. Depending on how plausible it was, they might have to scan other mass transit as well. But that could be easily abused. Tracking fugitives was the least of it. Different groups, ranging from activists to politicians, needed to be able to move freely.

After the conversation wound down, Rex left the botany lab and headed for his office. He needed to deal with the US. Unless the government cooperated and the source of the parasites was immediately identified, he needed to recommend quarantining the US. Anyone leaving needed to be scanned. As well as the planes and cargo. The US would probably cancel international flights instead of cooperate. Mexico and Canada might be more agreeable. It would cause a panic and international incidents as countries wanted to get their people out of the US.

Life was simpler with the CIA.

**Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales**

Standing in the garden, John Hart wondered about his life some days. Anwen, both of them, were in a mood. The younger one was mad at her mom. He couldn’t get a coherent explanation of why. Disrupting the computer search program and trying to reconfigure the network was a joint project. The essence wanted to expand scan capability but the current system was not the same as the one in the original time line. Predictably, she wanted it upgraded. They didn’t have the people or expertise.

Convincing his Anwen to return to his wrist-strap had been an experience. It made him think twice about transferring her.

 _Ettie and Luc can upgrade it_ , the essence argued. _They built the network._

Explaining it had already failed. _Keara on the station is from the original time line. She said it can’t be expanded yet._

“What’s wrong with my wrist-strap?” Anwen demanded.

“Keara and the general shut you out of the network. To keep you from disrupting it.” John wasn’t even sure how they managed it.

Listening to the nearly identical tantrum reminded him the universe had a perverse sense of humor.

“Anwen,” he said to the younger one, “Do your homework.”

“You sound like my mother.”

It was going to be that kind of day. He tried reasoning with Trefor earlier and the boy said something similar. John could at least pass that argument off to Jack. Or Ianto.

 _I want to see what you saw in Chicago_ , the essence said.

 _I can’t sleep right now. Odds are, I will be needed to investigate_. He was the only one with an immunity to the various illnesses thanks to the alchemy and alien antibodies.

Anwen growled in frustration. “With my wrist-strap disabled, mum cut off my access to the hub.”

_Fix it._

“Do you homework.”

_We are in the middle of a global crisis._

_Darling, you can’t control everything. The entire network is working on solving the problem. Even if you were physically here, there’s nothing you could do that isn’t being done._

“I need the computer to do my homework.”

“Your mother can download it for you.”

 _Hands on_ , the essence said. _We should go to the island as soon as it’s daylight there._

John wondered briefly if he could leave them both in the maintenance room with the 3D holograph projectors and elf porn.


	20. Chapter 20

** Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales **

** Friday, February 4, 2022 **

Ianto Jones stood in the shower with a mental list of tasks forming in his head. Michael needed new shoes. He had hoped they’d last a few more weeks, but Trefor got chocolate pudding all over one of them. 

The shower door opened and Jack stepped in. “He’s cuddling a teddy bear and dreaming of pterodactyls.” Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist.

Amused, he said, “His favorite things.” Although most kids had to settle for museums and books. 

Jack kissed the side of Ianto’s neck. He ran his hands over Jack’s arms and leaned back. 

“I have to go back to the states. Rex left me a message. The UN wants to ban all flights originating at O’Hare and the US is arguing against it.” 

Ianto knew he had no reason to worry. It did nothing for the sudden anxiety. “How soon?”

“A couple hours.” Jack kissed Ianto’s shoulder. “We can pretend we’re not married.”

The anxiety faded with the heat and familiarity. Until a phone rang from the bedroom. The interruption meant another crisis. The old fears surfaced as Jack stepped away. Their fingers tips touched briefly before he opened the door and stepped out. 

Global crisis, Ianto reminded himself, lingering a few minutes in the warm water. Calmed somewhat, he left the shower and grabbed a towel. The chill didn’t help. He had a bad feeling. 

“Another plane.”

Ianto handed Jack a towel.

“Left Auckland for Los Angeles. Requested an emergency landing in Honolulu and went down on an uninhabited island in international waters. Nova Scotia was contacted for the rescue effort.” He dried his face. “Initial reports indicate the cargo section was breached.”

“Survivors?”

Jack continued drying himself off. “Possibly. Azrael went. The plants can’t affect him.”

Ianto wasn’t sure what to ask first. “Was the plane headed for Chicago?” 

“Yeah. The panic will start as soon as what happened makes the news. We need to check airports.”

The anxiety flared as he realized he had to manage the hub by himself. “You, John and Gwen are leaving.”

Jack nodded. “I’m going to Auckland instead of Chicago.” Pause. “Jeannette, O’Malley and Aman are being called in.”

Ianto didn’t like it. “That makes the network vulnerable.”

“Keara on the station is monitoring military activity.”

People’s lives were in danger, Ianto reminded himself. Jack had to go. “Please be careful…”

Jack reached out, grabbed Ianto and pulled him in for a kiss that left them both breathless. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Ianto held an image of the shower before the phone call in his mind as he dressed for the day. He focused on Michael after that. It did little to ease the growing anxiety. The baby noticed and fussed. He would summon Lewella, he thought. It’s what he should have done during the hub attack. That certainty did little to settle his nerves.

Ken arrived with Anwen and Trefor as Ianto filled the dishwasher. 

“John set-up security,” Anwen said, trying to reassure. “All of Luc’s upgrades are active including surface to air. We’re good.”

Ianto wished her felt as confident as she sounded. “It will be cramped, but we are taking one car.”

“Why not portal?” Anwen asked. “We don’t need the car.”

That was definitely safer. Ianto looked at Ken. “Can you handle that?”

He nodded.

Ianto’s mobile rang as he spoke, “I need to get Michael’s bag.” 

“I got it.” Anwen walked toward the nursery.

“Jones,” he said after picking it up off the table.

“Morning.” Rex sounded stressed. “I have a favor to ask.”

Ianto knew he wouldn’t like it. “What?”

“I have to leave Owen in charge and go to O’Hare, the international airport in Chicago. He can’t handle diplomacy.”

It took a moment to realize what that meant. “You want to leave me in charge?”

“Yes.” Rex gave it a moment. “It’s basically secretarial. Take calls, provided prepared information and be polite.” Pause. “Owen is stressed to the point where he will tell representatives what to do with themselves.”

Ianto smiled weakly. “He would without the stress.”

“When you get to the hub, you need to accept the transferred calls. Preferably from the conference room as some want video.”

People lives were in danger, Ianto reminded himself again. “Who’s handling emergency response?”

“If it needs one of us, call. Otherwise Idrissa is coordinating with The Refuge. Miriam and the Ferryman are on standby.”

Ianto hoped it didn’t come to that. They were about as subtle as Azrael and tended to leave piles of bodies. 

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Ianto’s hands shook as he set up the coffeemaker in the conference room. Office manager was one thing. Acting Assistant Director was another. Even if he was simply answering calls. After the asinine rumors about his sexuality, he preferred to stay in the shadows. 

The door opened and Anwen entered. She carried a laptop, two tablets and a notebook. A smaller version of her mother. They argued because they were so much alike. One day she would be the head of Torchoowd. He suspected she intended to remind him. She wouldn’t have brought the computers if she hadn’t regained access to the hub.

“I thought you could use some help.”

Ianto needed it. But nothing she could offer. The various government officials had no idea what she could do or what position she would someday hold. It wasn’t something that would be believed if they told anyone. 

She set the pile of computers and notebooks on the table. Instead of the argument he expected, she opened her wrist-strap. A hologram like image appeared. The woman looked a lot like Gwen. “Meet future me. The short version is she’s the essence of the Torchwood director from the original time line.”

Ianto nearly dropped a mug. He released it and held his hands in front of him trying to keep them from shaking. 

“Relax. I am here to advise and assure you what happened before is not happening again,” the essence said. 

The voice sounded familiar.

“We weren’t prepared for the possibility. Now we are. Unlike my younger self, I know how my ability works.”

“The message I heard when I first woke up in Jack’s office.”

She smiled. “Yes. The impossible task of running the hub without a staff and keeping Jack out of trouble.” Pause. “The second part being the hardest.” 

“How do you intend to help?” Ianto asked carefully.

“Global records and research. I can’t help in the field. But I have extensive experience dealing with the politics and bureaucrats.” 

As Ianto moved to his usual seat at the table, he couldn’t help but remember what John and the general said about the Anwen in the future. She had an agenda. The question was what.


	21. Chapter 21

** Heathrow Airport; London, England **

Gwen Cooper portaled to headquarters and drove to the airport. There weren’t any simple ways to portal to the airport without being seen. After bad traffic and being stuck behind a tour bus, she wished she hadn’t drove. It aggravated her stress and gave her time to think. That was the last thing she needed.

The crowded, chaotic airport contributed to the stress. Being at the hub with Anwen sounded better. That unfortunately added guilt the tangle of emotions. She needed time to get her head on straight.

“Mrs. Williams,” a thirty-something man in a nice suit said as he approached. “I am Farren Wensley your guide.” 

“Ms. Cooper.” Gwen corrected, not wanting to know how the name mistake happened. 

That took him a moment to understand. “Sorry.” Pause. “We are unsure what you want to inspect. While we did get a flight that originated in Auckland, and one that stopped in Jakarta, there was nothing wrong with the planes.”

They entered a small office to talk privately, suggesting a misunderstanding. From his clothes and behavior, she wondered if he was a media liaison. The lack of cooperation might be a misguided attempt to protect the airport and airlines from bad press or liability. 

“This is preventative. At least two planes leaving Auckland were contaminated. I need to inspect cargo and speak to passengers.”

Wensley looked apologetic. She wondered if he practiced in front of a mirror. “Only two passengers are still here. Their flight leaves in an hour.”

“Did you hold their luggage?”

“Yes. It was even inspected and searched.”

Are you stupid? Gwen wanted to ask. “I also need to speak with anyone who had direct contact with the luggage.” Pause. “What’s the destination?”

“Chicago O’Hare. Their flight was redirected to John F. Kennedy in New York.”

Definitely stupid, she concluded. “Chicago is facing quarantine as a result of shipments from Auckland. Do they have cargo with them?”

He checked a tablet computer. “Yes. Two crates listed as educational materials.”

That immediately made her think of Montgomery Museum and the island research projects. “What are the passengers’ names?”

Wensley looked up as he spoke. “That’s confidential.”

Gwen crossed her eyes. “As they are a potential public safety hazard traveling from one quarantine to another, they are not boarding an airplane until I have determined they’re not a threat.” She gave it a moment. “I can shut this airport down.”

After half-an-hour of repeated excuses, she called in drones effectively shutting it down for the duration. Without specific details, Four focused scans on the international loading area, searching for luggage and crates with soil and miscellaneous that could have transferred in New Zealand. It took fifteen minutes to identify what they were looking for. 

Jeannette sounded exhausted over the ear com connection. “Good news and bad. No spores, parasites or pathogens of any kind. But one crate has botanical samples from the island. The other has unknown artifacts and scan resistant meteorites. Four used maintenance bots to transport the crates and luggage to headquarters. Nova Scotia sent sentinels for the passengers.”

Gwen pinched the bridge of her nose. That was guaranteed to be ugly. 

“What are you doing?” Wensley demanded. “Security reports military-like robots in passenger areas.”

“Hold on.” She looked at him. “If you cooperated, I could have pulled the passengers and their luggage without causing a panic. Their privacy included hazardous materials.” Pause. “What happened in Jakarta could have happened here.”

He paled, looking like he might be sick.

“Best case scenario, they’re incredibly stupid. More likely, they packed those crates to bypass standard scanners so they could transport the equivalent of bioweapons.”

** O’Hare Airport; Chicago, IL, USA **

Rex Matheson entered the large, international airport with a growing list of concerns. They were to the point of paranoia. Owen set up a medical monitoring device for continual scans. Despite regenerating as a result of near immortality after Miracle Day, it was possible to expose him to a parasite, especially if a larger organism was involved. They didn’t know what would happen as a result.

Getting through security required showing his Torchwood ID and waiting for an escort. Rex used his phone while waiting. Hearing about the Heathrow situation reminded him he couldn’t stay long. Dealing with basic diplomacy was a lot to ask. 

Effectively arresting two Americans for terrorism made it worse. “If it’s get too bad,” Rex said. “Hand it over to Owen.” 

“Have you seen him mad?” Ianto asked carefully.

One of the many reasons Rex chose Ianto to handle diplomacy. “He will de-stress by lashing out at everyone harassing him.” While loud and angry, Owen also knew the most of the various medical problems. Facts, and honesty, were useful weapons under the circumstances.

Ianto paused, listening to someone in the background. “The Americans work for the pharmaceutical company researching on the island. While the US doesn’t recognize the ICC, the company is international and can be brought before the court for transporting bioweapons. Intentional or not. That matters outside the US and might offer leverage against the US.”

Who are you talking to? Rex wondered. As far as he knew, Ianto was at the hub with the kids and a babysitter. “Collect the evidence. I want to review it before it’s submitted.” 

When someone finally approached, Rex felt he’d wasted too much time already. Despite wearing a security uniform, the man looked military. While veterans made good security guards, the government might have sent a soldier in undercover for some reason. 

“Matheson,” the man said, “I’m Vasquez, the shift supervisor.”

“Any reports?” Rex sadly wondered if the US would admit it.

“No psyche problems.”

Established parasites don’t have mental health symptoms. With that in mind, Rex used a key-chain sized device to remotely access a medical scanner. It scanned Vasquez and sent the negatively results to Rex’s ear com.

“Where do you want to start?”

“International freight.”

Within a few minutes, Rex suspected a problem. “It would be simpler to install scanners specific to the pathogens.” Something the US would never agree to. “What happened at Heathrow shows how easy it is bypass conventional technology.”

“Airport management is considering options.”

Very diplomatic. But it felt wrong. The more Rex thought about it, something felt off before they met. The added paranoia made him more observant and he realized there was an unusual number of military personnel in civilian clothes. Their hair cuts, body language and even the way they dressed gave them away. 

“I should stop.” He motioned toward an individual rest room (public toilet.) 

After shutting and locking the door, Rex tapped his ear com. It didn’t work. He checked the hand-held scanner and it wasn’t connected to the network. That meant the medical scanner was probably not uploading. With everything going on, it wasn’t a priority. He was a regenerating immortal. While he doubted it, he checked his cell phone. It had no bars.

That left containment. His phone had software and technology that could disrupt the network. Rex selected the compromised option, essentially causing it to self-destruct. He then removed the SIM card and dropped it in the trash. Torchwood had other ways to find it’s tech. 

With a little effort, he pried his hand-held scanner open. Using a stun pellet, he overloaded the circuitry. Then ran water over it. It wasn’t that easy to destroy, but he didn’t have a better idea. He ideally would have time to stash the pieces.


	22. Chapter 22

** Former Mission; Recreational Forest Bukit Lagong, Malaysia **

John Hart walked around the outside of the facility. He didn’t remember it from the original time line. His Anwen would want to see it. Based on Global files, the meteorite situation was new. The time changes somehow affected the technology. It was difficult to predict and control minor corrections. The Time Agency prided itself on that. Torchwood made major changes. Unexpected consequences were guaranteed.

His ear com click. He tapped it. “John,” the youngest Keara said over the connection. 

They met in Cardiff soon after he arrived. She had no idea what she was capable of. He doubted she figured it out. Or maybe he hoped she hadn’t. “Just looking around.” He needed to walk around in the daytime. A tropical paradise was a good backdrop for a shared-dream.

“Jerard found something.”

The girl had bad judgment when it came to men. Her friend Colin’s obsession with Jack brought her to Cardiff. “Is it urgent?”

John found nothing to indicate an immediate threat. The airport had luggage and passengers from Auckland but no contamination. He left a concealed maintenance bot but didn’t expect anything. While the freight plane that landed in Jakarta was headed for Kuala Lampur there was no evidence its cargo intentionally carried dangerous biologicals. There was an issue with the pilot, but he suspected that was simply contraband.

“Interesting.” Her tone said she didn’t know. 

From what he knew of the older version of Keara on the station, she had no aptitude for science. He then realized he overlooked the obvious. They had the same taste in men. 

“How do I find the entrance?” John needed to meet Jerard. It was possible they had a lot in common. The similarities between the two psychics meant the girl might be manipulating him. Or the older version was manipulating him through the girl. 

Once inside, John reminded himself that the girl was a different person. Her life was very different than the woman that faked her death and sent him on a path to self-destruction. While that led to his relationship with Anwen, he wasn’t ready to forgive her. 

Keara met him at the second door leading into the facility. She still looked vulnerable. It was possible. Aman/Azrael prevented her from experiencing the same trauma as the older version. “Do you know anything about organic chemistry?”

“Some.” Not enough to keep up with Jerard.

She led passed a maintenance bot cleaning a wall behind an energy shield. “This building is full of unusual plants that do strange things.”

That reminded of something that happened in Australia in the original time line. “Any aphrodisiacs?” They were fun.

Keara stumbled, catching herself on the wall. 

“Need a hand?” John moved closer, startling her. He retreated. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She started walking again.

John replayed the conversation in his head wondering what he missed. “Any meteorites or similarities to the plant problems?”

“Jerard thinks at least one of the meteorites landed near here more than a hundred years ago.” 

If so, they could determine if it was part of a terraforming probe and possibly how to differentiate between intentional and unintentional modifications. Depending on the researchers documentation. It also meant Torchwood information could have been transferred or leaked and been used to cause one or more of the problems.

A door creaked as Keara approached and opened partway. John opened his wrist-strap and remote-accessed the device. The entire door and mechanism needed to be replaced. 

She squeezed through the opening. “There’s something growing in the wall.” 

John pushed on the door to get through. He suspected that meant relocating for awhile to assess and repair the location. If it was worth the effort. While his Anwen wouldn’t mind living at the new recruitment center, the younger one wouldn’t like him leaving Cardiff. That was not a conversation he looked forward to having.

The massive laboratory distracted him from his thoughts. He’d seen nothing like it on Earth. It shared some of Four’s technology. That suggested a quantum entanglement energy source and offered an alternative explanation for the plants. It could be like Atmore or the terraformed island. If the meteorites were connected to that, it was a different type of technology than he originally thought.

The ship crash, John thought. It blanketed the area on the other side of Australia with exotic energy. The giant sea turtle in the reservoir indicated the potential for change. It could have long-term side-effects. Ianto set-up presets to monitor reports of reptiles, primarily affected by Atmore energy, and human reproduction rates. It might have affected the meteorites.

“It’s more interesting in here,” Jerard called from farther into the lab.

John followed his voice through two open doors and found a smaller lab with an adjacent quarantine. It was filled with long-established plants. That only made sense if the power remained on after the researchers left. 

“They didn’t shut down their research?” He wondered allowed.

“According to their files, they thought they did.” Jerard sounded fascinated. He sat at a console that looked like a combination of maintenance bots and manual repair. 

Keara claimed a seat next to him looking enamored. 

Crazy and dangerous appealed, John thought. “What went wrong?”

“Stupidity. They were evaluating biomechanical power sources and assumed by shutting off the facility power it would kill the plants.”

“They generated the energy to survive?”

Jerard nodded. “And breached the initial quarantine and networking through the walls.”

Theories on the parasites came to mind. “Spores?” The parasites could in theory be a type of spore that worked like a pathogen to spread it or even protect a larger organism.

“Definitely. The building is filled with fungus.” Jerard’s hands flew over the console. “The mushrooms at the NIU greenhouse had similarities.”

That made John uneasy. “It’s contained?”

“Completely. Four and the space station are monitoring it.”

There were too many things that could go wrong for John to find that comforting. “Could this type of research explain the parasites?”

Jerard nodded. “Definitely.” He motioned at a screen. “Imagine an AI, like Four, based on these plants.”

That was a horror movie John didn’t want to see. He reviewed the computer screen with a growing sense of dread. “Under the right circumstances, that could power a city.”

Jerard agreed. “While producing oxygen and removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.”

John wanted to believe no one was that stupid. “We can track the effect it has on the atmosphere…” Another idea came to mind. “If the plants minimally contaminated the water, it would affect the immune systems of anyone with long-term exposure.” He spoke into his wrist-strap. “Anwen Williams.”

“What?”

“Is Ianto there?”

“Yep.” He sounded overwhelmed.

John needed to get back to Cardiff. “I have a lead. Someone needs to check where the girl with the antibodies against the parasite is from. Her hometown, or a place she lived for years, could have contaminated water. That could lead to the source of the parasites.”


	23. Chapter 23

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

After a few hours, Ianto Jones needed stronger headache medication and a shower. He suspected the overt sexual behavior from several people had to do with Jack. Ianto knew that few people actually knew anything about him so many assumed he and Jack had similar mindsets. The flirting and innuendos were better than the complaints. No matter how many times Ianto explained that everyone capable of field work was in the field, some representatives or government officials took offense to talking to an underling. 

The computer clicked and Ianto barely kept from groaning. “Incoming video conference from Carlisle Aeronautical.”

He stood and moved toward the large conference room flat screen. “Computer, accept call.”

A woman in her early sixties appeared on the screen. 

“I am Ianto Jones, acting Torchwood Director.” He started using the title after a couple awkward questions about his authority to answer questions. 

“Evelyn Taylor of Carlisle Aeronautics.” She sounded Australian. “I spoke to Eryn Sylla earlier about the damaged airplanes. Carlisle manufactured them.”

Ianto didn’t remember seeing a report on it. “You have information?”

“A terrorist claim by email. The sender said that the planes were downed by nature bombs that targeted substandard construction materials. It included a list of demands and a threat to crash every plane we’ve built.”

“Is there any indication the writer has inside information into your company or knowledge of airplanes?”

“Unfortunately.”

Ianto hoped it was an opportunist exploiting the tragedy or a disturbed prank. But they didn’t have enough information. “I need you to send me the email.” Kailen could then ideally trace it back to the sender. If that didn’t disprove the claim, a psychological analysis needed to be done.

Evelyn hesitated. “It contains proprietary information.”

“Ma’am, a hundred-and-fifty-eight people were endangered in the second crash. Twenty-five are dead. Several more aren’t expected to make it. Another fifty were seriously injured.” Ianto gave it a moment. “Torchwood isn’t interested in questionable quality standards. If the crashes were a result of a terrorist attack, we need to know.”

She thankfully didn’t argue company liability and agreed to forward the email. As soon as he received it, he sent Eryn a message marked urgent. They needed to know if it was legit. Forty minutes, and two cranky officials later, she called back. 

“My brother traced the email. It came from a library computer in Brisbane, Australia. Where Carlisle’s business office is located. It’s between the Coral Sea and Auckland, New Zealand. Which may or may not mean anything.”

Ianto nodded. Without knowing what they were dealing with, they had no idea what was important. 

“Luc says nothing in the email suggest the person was involved. But he found evidence of unusual radiation. Possibly an unconventional dirty bomb. It triggered a meteorite.” She sounded uncertain. “He can’t confirm the radiation source, meteorite or plant material were in the same cargo container. He suspects crates similar to the ones found at Heathrow. By themselves they posed no danger.”

“That plane is over the Atlantic. If there is another radiation device, will it bring down the plane without the New Zealand cargo?” Ianto doubted there would be survivors.

“We don’t know. Ettie and Keara on the station is preparing for the possibility.” Paused. “What happened in Jakarta complicates it. Azrael destroyed the evidence. He had to. As a result we have no way of knowing if the damage was intentional.”

** Port of Onehunga; Auckland, New Zealand **

With the new urgency, Jack Harkness portaled immediately instead of waiting for daylight. Despite the darkness, the weather was better. With the airport problems, the government didn’t object to drones. That expedited the search.

Jack Harkness stood by a docked ship. At first glance, the small cargo vessel matched it’s official description. Using his wrist-strap, he connected a hand-held scanner and his his ear come to an overhead drone and the satellite network. It made processing large amounts of data from detailed scans faster. 

Distortion tech indicated a problem. “A salvage ship,” Jack concluded. Hidden plant materials matched scans at the airport. “Smugglers caused the plane crash.”

“What were they smuggling?” Keara on the station asked. “A new drug…” She groaned. “They were harvesting an aphrodisiac. The organic version is derived from a type of seaweed that causes euphoria. Exposed to certain types of radiation, it becomes a problem.” Pause. “It grows naturally in the Coral Sea between Australia and Papua New Guinea.”

Jack wondered about her tone. “Any indication the meteorites are radioactive?”

“No. But the people affected in Papua New Guinea recently returned by boat through the Coral Sea.”

Either the island wasn’t involved or it was cross-contamination. “Azrael had questions about whether the people affected in Jakarta were exposed to the airplane. Maybe they took the drug or were in recent contact with someone who had.”

“Depending on the version of the drug, it brings new meaning to contact high.”

Jack smiled. “Personal experience?”

“Nothing I will admit to.”

Jack laughed. 

“I sent details to the Sarkisians. Jerard might have a lead on the parasites.” She quickly explained what John suspected about the water.

“Is O’Malley in the area. We need scans of the Coral Sea?”

“He’s headed for Hawaii. Azrael requested him at the crash site. Something dissolved part of the plane’s cargo section. He’s concerned the ocean is affected.”

Thinking about the seaweed reminded Jack of the mushrooms. “Check for reports of the aphrodisiac in Chicago.” Pause. “How transferable is it? One of the affected was probably not sexually active.”

“It wouldn’t work as a date rape drug, but a rapist might have used it.”

“Someone needs to contact the DeKalb clinic and ask about rape reports.” It was not the first time the possibility was discussed. “Chloe’s file might have something.” Jack hoped the question of legal culpability didn’t get raised. Zeke’s behavior change indicated a complete personality change that made him legally insane. But Chloe’s reaction was the opposite. They didn’t have enough information to reasonably guess.

“Gwen is at headquarters. She can handle it.” Keara paused, presumably sending the message. “John has a theory about contaminated water causing Chloe’s antibodies. If any of this is transferable through water, it will be hard to contain.”

Jack didn’t like the sound of that. “We need to test drinking water in affected areas.”

“It’s on the list.” Keara sounded uncertain. “There’s another possibility to consider. If the parasites are difficult to transfer then a few people could have been infected to spread something sexually. If could explain the different versions. They were created or they evolved separately.”

That meant anything from targeting STDs to sterilization. Jack wanted to believe it wasn’t possible, but he’d seen worse. 

“Jack.” Tosh sounded exhausted, her voice distorted by lag. “I found something. Chloe grew up in a town southwest of Chicago. After an industrial accident polluted several farms making them unusable, a company moved into the area. It cleaned up the pollution, created jobs and saved the community.” Pause. “The research facility is connected to the pharmacy company, Montgomery Museum and NIU. Initial scans show contaminated water and extensive distortion technology.”

“Rex?” Jack asked.

“He’s not responding to his com,” Tosh said. “His mobile goes straight to voice mail.”

“Send me the location of the town.” Jack wondered if Rex met with the CIA or a government official. He might have felt justified going dark. “Keara, find Rex.” The more Jack thought about it, the more he doubted the simple explanation. That was more his or John’s MO. “Start a head count. Make sure we know where everyone is. No assumptions.”


	24. Chapter 24

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Ianto Jones stood in front of the conference room flat scan with his hands held too tightly behind him. His heart raced. Torchwood had challenged him in ways he never imagined. Technically being in charge during a global crisis was new. 

Muriel Grace appeared on the screen. She worked at the US Embassy and had previously coordinated with Torchwood. Rumors said she previously worked for the CIA. “Who are you?”

“Ianto Jones, I’m Acting Director of Torchwood. Which is why I’m calling. Director Matheson went to Chicago to evaluate O’Hare security. We tracked him as far as the airport. But his network access was disrupted and his mobile blocked.”

“I am unsure how I can help.”

“I need to open a dialog with whatever US agency is currently holding him. If I am unable to speak to him in the next half-an-hour, I will authorize a rescue mission. Nova Scotia is the nearest office.”

She looked concerned. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“I have reached out to Jack’s FBI and CIA contacts. They said the same thing.” Ianto gave it a moment. “I advised the UN and ICC that Torchwood is preparing to shut down O’Hare indefinitely. Rex went to confirm the airport was safe. It’s obviously not. There would be no reason to arrest or otherwise detain him unless he found something.”

“The US does not react well to threats, Mr. Jones.”

“Ma’am, in order to prevent us from finding him, someone is using technology that specifically blocks Torchwood.” Ianto hoped he looked as calm as he sounded. “Help me resolve this before it escalates.”

“Diplomacy doesn’t work this way.”

“If you want a nice, diplomatic Torchwood, give us our diplomatic director back.” Ianto ended the call. 

“Very good,” the essence of future Anwen said. 

The anxiety disagreed. It surfaced with a vengeance. His heart pounded as he turned, grabbed a chair and sat unceremoniously. He leaned on the table and his shaky hands shook the table. Office management and daycare, he wanted his normal job back.

Anwen stood and hurried over to him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You did it. Keara will be able to track who she calls and how people respond.”

That did nothing to help his nerves. By antagonizing a US representative, he may have aggravated the situation. Any known Torchwood agents in the states were potential targets. While nothing permanent could be done to Jack or Rex, they could be tortured. The possibility he caused it was overwhelming.

The computer clicked. “Incoming message from the space station.”

“Computer, accept,” Anwen instructed.

“Grace called CIA headquarters,” Keara said. “Apparently, she’s been working with MI6 to turn Davy Delagarza into an asset. From her tone, she’s a lot more than an embassy worker.”

“Is she using an encrypted phone?” Anwen asked.

“State of the art. No indication she knows we’re listening.”

Ianto opened his eyes. He knew he needed to ask questions and the answers would make the anxiety worse. “If the government was trying to compromise Rex, why abduct him?”

“Distraction, interrogation, leverage.”

The essence’s image crossed her arms but Anwen spoke. “The government has it’s wires crossed.”

** Fitch-Elmore Research Subsidiary; Cottage Junction, Illinois **

Jack Harkness stood in the trees behind the facility. With the general in Chicago wearing his clothes, the government thought Torchwood was focused on getting Rex back. The value of being in two places at once. Although his son still had issues with how much they looked alike. It wasn’t a favor he could ask under most circumstances.

He reviewed a hand-held device. Scan readings were inconsistent and distorted, making the technology difficult to identify. It was definitely alien. But he suspected it was derived from salvaged tech. Except the configuration and energy modulation had a heart-like rhythm rather than a typical pulse. 

A sound from his left caught his attention. Jack stopped and listened. A distinctive scrapping sound followed. He shook his head. That joke wasn’t funny the first time. He suspected John was identifying himself. There were better ways.

“That’s a conversation you need to have with Ken,” Jack said quietly as John approached. 

“Ever wish you could run away from home?”

Jack held out the device for John to see. “If I do, it doesn’t involve the mating ritual of the universe’s largest sloths.”

John shrugged. “They don’t complain…” The readings distracted him.

Jack could only guess having his girlfriend back was difficult. “If you like a few hundred kilograms of fur and claws with tusks.” (Several hundred pounds.)

“You spent a week with that…” John looked up. “These readings are similar to the Malaysian facility. Specifically an area of the structure controlled by plants that are basically living solar cells. They produce power from sunlight and other external energy sources.”

“Do you think Jerard’s involved?”

“Not with this.”

Jack wondered what that meant, but it could wait. “What does he think the parasites are?”

“Possibly a biomechanical AI similar to Four. Theoretically, it could clean the air, water and generate enough energy to power a city.” 

“Tosh had similar ideas. The parasites could be drones.” Jack thoughts wandered to the possibilities. “If it’s sentient, it’s young.”

“Meaning what? It doesn’t know better than to infect people and use them for puppets?” John handed the device back. “Before you adopt it...” He tilts his head, listening. “The door opened.”

Jack scanned the building again. There were noticeable changes. Something reconfigured the distortion technology to allow a basic scan. Although Jack wondered if the information was reliable. What happened at O’Hare showed advanced alien or derived from alien technology. 

“Welcome to the parlor…”

Jack tapped his ear com. “Keara.”

“Here.” She sounded distracted.

“We have a way into the building. Odds are, it’s a trap.” The question was what kind. Jack knew from personal experience over the years that being immortal didn’t protect him from mundane risks. 

“Check-in regularly.”

“Send Jerard the scan readings,” John said as they walked toward the door


	25. Chapter 25

** Former Mission; Recreational Forest Bukit Lagong, Malaysia **

Standing in a small, secured lab, Jerard Sarkisian reviewed the results growing excitement. It worked. He knew how the meteorites worked. He didn’t know why. Or how anyone else worked it out without the research and technology. He condensed the files and sent them to Nova Scotia and the Observatory. It was their turn. Understanding how the planes were targeted and preventing it required physics and engineering.

Keara walked over to him. “What?” 

“Success, Fraulein Igor!” He happily explained in French until he realized she didn’t speak French and wouldn’t understand the scientific details if he repeated them in English.

“Does it involve lightning?”

The Frankenstein reference took a moment to understand. “Nein!” Jerard grinned. “Pure Sarkisian genius.”

She smiled. “As humble as always.”

“We need to celebrate!” He laughed. Then pulled her in for a kiss. She tensed and he released her. “What’s wrong?” 

“You will break my heart.”

“Probably.” Jerard waited a moment. “But I won’t hurt you.”

She hesitated. “It has to do with what happened. When I was sixteen.” 

“The human-traffickers.” 

Keara nodded. “It’s stupid.” She looked unsure of how or if she wanted to explain.

“Fear is a survival necessity.” The cliche answer annoyed Jerard. He sounded like a text book.

“It’s not fear. Not exactly.” She hesitated. Then looked and sounded resigned. “Virgins are worth more.”

He hoped the traffickers died horribly. “Celibacy protects you from being raped.”

“The therapist thinks there’s more to it.”

Jerard could only guess it was some type of trust issue. He knew more about brain chemistry than psychology. “You’re safe. If you’re afraid of being abducted, Torchwood can give you a transponder. With the network, there isn’t anywhere the space station couldn’t find you quickly and easily.”

She nodded. “I have one.”

“There are other ways to celebrate.” He hadn’t expected sex or an awkward conversation about it. “We can explore Kuala Lampur!”

“I should go. You’re safe now.”

Jerard doubted relocating solved the problem. Not that there was anything she could do about it. It was likely the group knew where they were. His father had old Torchwood records. The facility was probably the origin of the plants the creatures evolved from.

“Call your cousins. “They will understand what you accomplished.” Pause. “I need to pack.” Keara hesitated, not wanting to go.

“Email me. The castle won’t be the same without Igor.” 

Jerard wished he knew what to say. He kissed her on impulse. It was obvious she didn’t want a physical relationship. If he wanted sex, he would find someone willing. Ideally with experience. He didn’t need to coerce her. But he had no idea how to explain that without sounding like a bastard. 

It was awkward for a couple minutes before she turned and walked from the room. 

He turned back to his computer. “Computer, call Nova Scotia.” He needed to discuss it with Eryn. She would coordinate turning the research into practical use. 

Jerard realized then he envied his cousin. Eryn saw Luc at his worst and stayed. As far as he knew, Ruthie was the only one of his aunts or uncle that accepted the family quirks. The first time his mother saw him break a punching bag, she sent him to live with his father.

The youngest Keara Montfert held the tears until she reached her room. She sat on the floor with her back to the bed and cried. The Prophet was right. He was always right. But she didn’t want to leave. The soldier on the station had to know how to cope. She survived much worse. Maybe talking to her would help.

A creaking sound caught her attention. She looked over and saw a small vine poke through the air vent. “Computer, open com.” It clicked. “Jerard, containment’s breached.” She quickly explained what she was seeing. 

“Get out of there!”

Keara moved toward the door and it didn’t open. “I can’t.”

Jerard appeared moments later in a swirl of red. He grabbed her and they disappeared. They reappeared in the main control room. She hugged him, pressing her face to his shoulder and cried. He set a hand tentatively on her back. 

An alarm sounded. She jumped. 

“That’s a security breach.”

She released him.

The red energy faded as he moved toward a computer console. Jerard typed rapidly, reviewing multiple screens. The red energy returned, swirling around him. She suspected that meant the situation was worse than a plant in the pipes. When he started swearing, she knew it was.

Another alarm sounded.

“What’s happening?” Keara moved over to him.

“We were hacked.” From his tone, he didn’t know how. “It allowed the plants to breach. There are spores in the ventilation system.”

“How does anyone know we’re here?”

“I don’t know.”

Keara set her hands on Jerard’s shoulder’s and closed her eyes. She focused on him. 

A board room appeared in her mind. The image focused on a tall, fifty-something man with silver hair and an expensive suit. He stood, looking out a window at the Chicago landscape. Something about him looked familiar. Not simply the Armenian heritage. He turned, his eyes glowing red and looked at her. A part of her mind said it wasn’t possible. But he knew she was there.

Startled, she opened her eyes. 

“Keara.”

She only then realized she was gripping his shoulders. “Tigran...” 

Jerard tenses. “What did my father do?” 

Before she could answer, a buzzing filled her ears and her legs gave out. She dropped to her knees, looking up at him. “He’s taking over the world.”

Red energy rushed from Jerard, flowing over her as the world went dark. 


	26. Chapter 26

** (International Corporate Headquarters); Chicago, Illinois **

The lavish executive conference room occupied the corner of a skyscraper with an impressive view. Rex Matheson sat at the table waiting for his host to return. While he hadn’t introduced himself, Rex suspected another Sarkisian. He had no idea if Quebec had a large Armenian community. But the arrogance, ego and intensity fit. His age suggested one of the cousins’ parents. Art was dead. That left Jerard and Monty’s fathers. If the man was directly related. Samvel taught at the Universite du Quebec a Montreal.

The door opened and the man returned.

“Tigran?”

His expression reminded Rex of an adult watching a small child complete a simple task. “Not completely hopeless.”

What is it with Torchwood and massive egos? Rex wondered. “What do you want?”

“An understanding.” Tigran walked toward the windows with his hands clasped behind his back. “When the Institute was destroyed, Torchwood decentralized. Jack assumed the most prominent role. After Miracle Day, he became the knight-in-shining armor that saved the world.”

While you hid in your ivory tower. 

“We have protected North America for generations.  Your Torchwood is neither wanted nor needed here.”

Rex barely kept from groaning. “My Torchwood is trying to resolve a global crisis.” 

“By arresting the people in London capable of ending it.” Tigran sounded like he was losing his patience with a child. 

“Then work with us not against us.”

Tigran’s cell phone rang, interrupting his reply. He quickly found it, checked the screen and answered it in a language Rex suspected was Armenian. From what he knew of the Sarkisians, it suggested a family conversation. It wasn’t friendly.

A knock interrupted the call. “What?” Tigran demanded angrily. 

The door opened and a young woman unimpressed by his temper entered. She sounded exasperated. “The Acting Director of Torchwood is threatening to shut down O’Hare and hand the rescue effort over to Luc. Somewhere between Portland and the failed military attack against Nova Scotia.”

“Prepare an encrypted line.” 

She held up a phone. 

“Give it to him.” Tigran turned back toward the window and the angry conversation resumed.

She crossed the room to Rex. “Which Torchwood office?”

“Cardiff.”

She quickly entered a code. When the phone rang she handed it to him.

Rex wondered if that was some type of statement. 

“Torchwood Cardiff.” Ianto sounded like he was struggling. 

“Hey.” The conversation went as expected. Rex had no details on his location and Ianto wasn’t willing to stand down without specifics. “The cargo from Heathrow…”

A white light surrounded Rex and he disappeared.

** Torchwood London; London England **

When the white light faded, Rex found himself standing in his office. It took a moment to process. Normally, he used portal devices to travel. But he had seen the transporter technology used by the space station and spaceships. Keara must have traced one of the phone calls. 

The computer clicked. “Incoming call from Nova Scotia.”

Rex needed time to process and knew he wasn’t getting it. “Accept.”

“Welcome back.” Eryn sounded exhausted. “Jerard figured out the meteorites and what caused the plane crashes. Luc is working on ways to identify the technology and protect planes. And Ettie is writing up the scientific details for Ms. Sato.” She sounded apologetic. “She may have difficulty understanding it. Luc has to research aspects of it.”

“What do you know about Tigran Sarkisian?”

“He has Jerard’s ego and wants everyone to believe he’s as smart as his son. He specializes in the commercial uses for genetic modification.” She added hesitantly. “You need to be careful with him. He has an explosive temper.”

Compared to what? Rex wondered. Her fiancee’s anger issues were extreme. “Was Tigran associated with Beaupre?”

“I don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me.” Eryn sounded unsure of how to explain something. “The Sarkisian quirks are more obvious in Luc’s aunt and uncles. They are brilliant and accomplished.” Pause. “But reclusive. Samvel is able to teach but only under very controlled circumstances.”

“What about Mariam?” Rex hadn’t uncovered much about Ettie’s mother.

“She’s a lot like Ettie. She specializes in troubleshooting complex engineering problems.” 

“Tigran has a group operating in Chicago.” Rex explained what he knew. “We need more information.”

“Jerard might know. Him and his father…” Eryn hesitated. “I would rather deal with Aman’s father than Tigran.”

A knock interrupted. Langford entered looking relieved. “Brisbane has a problem, sir. It might not be a Torchwood case, but people are scared.”

Understandably. “Eryn, I need to go.”

“I will call back when we have more.” The call ended.

Rex turned toward his desk. “What’s the situation?” He needed a break. 

“Several people from a cruise to the Coral Sea are exhibiting uncharacteristic sexual behavior. That’s reportedly contagious.” Langford handed Rex a tablet computer across the desk as he sat. 

He shook his head slightly reading the details. “Where’s Jack?” 

“Investigating a company in the US.”

That meant he had to leave again. They were short-handed. “Is Gwen still here?”

“She’s refereeing a diplomatic argument involving the two people she arrested at Heathrow.”

Rex suddenly remembered what Tigran said about them. “Their cargo might hold a solution for the parasite situation in the US.”

Langford nodded. “Dr. Harper came to the same conclusion. They refuse to cooperate. New Zealand and Great Britain want to charge them with transporting a potential bioweapon in containers designed to bypass security measures. They have an attorney arguing illegal search and seizure and that none of it’s dangerous.”

“Do we have background information yet?”

“Limited. Their visas were issued quickly for business associated with Montgomery Museum. Gwen coordinated with law enforcement in Auckland for more information. If she heard back, she didn’t tell me.”

No matter how urgent, Rex knew he needed a few minutes at least. He suspected more. “Have her come here. I need updates before I leave.”

Langord hesitated. “Williams can handle Australia.”

“Thank you.” Rex wondered if it was more than stress. He waited until Langford left. “Computer, in-depth medical scan of Rex Matheson.”

Moment’s later, an emergency medical alarm sounded. Tigran’s people disabled his personal medical scanner. Not surprising since they disrupted his other technology.

The alarm ceased and the intercom clicked. Owen sounded somewhere between angry and exhausted. “You’re compromised. You have a parasite.” 

The door clicked as quarantine initiated.

“Computer, remove command authority from Rex Matheson.” 

It scanned him again for confirmation. “Removed.”

Minutes later, the white light surrounded him again.


	27. Chapter 27

** Fitch-Elmore Research Subsidiary; Cottage Junction, Illinois **

Jack Harkness walked around the arboretum. Reviewing hand-held scanner results without network access reminded him why they needed it. He and John had extensive experience with the strange and bizarre, but the situation required medical and science knowledge they didn’t have. 

The massive plant had all the indicators of an intelligent life-form. Based on the neurology, he had no doubt it was self-aware. Whether they could communicate with it was another story. Although it seemed to understand who they were when it let them in the building.

“Jack.” John walked under a tree-like sensory stalk. “This is similar to what Jerard is dealing with in Malaysia. Except the growth is much older. Based on the core root system, I estimate it’s seventy or eighty years old.” Pause. “The parasites are comparable but there is nothing here that could create them. It’s not producing spores.”

Intentionally? Jack wondered, looking at the creature. “Are you trying to tell us you’re innocent?” 

“It has complete control of this facility.”

“Did you scan the water?”

John quickly adjusted the criteria on his hand-held and scanned again. “Intentionally contaminated. But it’s not toxic to humans.”

Chloe had beneficial antibodies. “This was an industrial town before the research company arrived.” Presumably bringing the plant. “Maybe it cleaned the water.” Jack knew there had to be more to it. Why continue affecting the water unless there was an ongoing problem?

“The alien antibodies improved my immune system.” 

“It can clean the environment and generate energy.” If it was like Four, it might be providing for community because it could. “If it can communicate, it made contact with the locals,” Jack concluded. Sentient beings were social in general. 

“How?”

Jack reviewed the brain scans again. “Spores. Like Dr. Stone.” It was the only idea he had.

“If this one isn’t involved, that means there are two more.” John realized. “At least.”

Jack nodded. Something changed recently. The contagious parasites couldn’t have stayed hidden long. Someone like Zeke or Chloe would have landed in a mental health facility and a psychiatrist would have found it through blood work. That was why the people capable of communicating with the plant were hiding. It also meant they needed more information about Dr. Stone. She might willingly have a parasite. 

“What if the dangerous parasites are a result of sick plants?” That fit with what he found in Auckland.

“Cross contamination with the seaweed. Or a problem with the meteorites. If they are part of a probe,” from John’s tone it was still the only idea he had, “Then using them is exploiting malfunctioning alien technology with the potential to destroy the planet.”

It was unlikely the people involved understood that. They knew because they witnessed what a probe did to a trash planet while they were with the Time Agency. Unless something tragic happened, it was unlikely they could prove the technology was too dangerous to use.

Jack reprogrammed his scanner to check the room for an intercom system. As he expected, someone was listening. Ideally, someone able to communicate with the plant. “We need someone to translate for us.”

“Gaia isn’t hurting anyone,” a young woman said over the intercom.

Interesting choice of names, Jack thought. “Does she know who or what created the parasites causing problems?”

“One of her seedlings.”

That made sense. “Does she know where?”

Minutes passed. “North of the big city. Chicago, I think. She’s young and sick. Possibly on purpose. Gaia asks you give her seedling the same consideration you gave the affected humans.”

Jack hoped they could. The plants would likely need custom structures. “How do we find the sick seedling?”

“She’s by a large body of water. Maybe Lake Michigan,” the young woman said.

John grimaced. “If someone activates probe nanotech near that much pollution…” 

It would be catastrophic. “I need access to the Torchwood network. A drone will be able to check the lake faster then we can.” Jack wondered how they were going to deal with the political fallout. He doubted the US would agree to move the plants. If Gaia wanted to stay, that meant she had to be monitored to prevent exploitation.

“What if there’s a plant drawing water from the Coral Sea? Exposure to the seaweed could have potentially caused the problems in New Zealand and Papua New Guinea.” 

Jack’s ear com chimed. “I’m here.”

“Captain Harkness,” Eryn sounded relieved. “Are you and Captain Hart safe?”

Hopefully. “What happened?”

“It’s Director Matheson. He’s back in London, but he’s infected.”

Jack exchanged a look with John. That wasn’t good. “We may have the locations of two sentient plants. Both are potentially sick and maybe infecting people because of it.” Jack repeated the information he’d been given.

“We may have a lead in Brisbane. The general is there now.”

Good. “Compared with the details from Auckland.” Ideally, the information they received from the woman was accurate. “We need immediate plans for rescue and relocation.”

“Captain, you need to get back to London. Ms. Cooper’s trying to deal with the representatives and politicians, but she’s ready to introduce them all to Dr. Harper.”

Jack smiled, remembering the press conference Owen held. “As soon as possible.”

Static filled the connection and it ended.

The young woman sounded nervous. “The military is here.”

Jack used his hand-held to scan the computer again. The network interfere was coming from outside the building. He hoped Keara was tracking military movement.

His ear com clicked again.

“An Atmore drone landed on the roof.” Luc sounded angry. “Kailen’s preparing a ballistic shield barrier.” He swore. “They’re prepared. I notified Keara.”

Static affected the connection again. “Try not to hurt anyone.”

“Only my uncle.” The connection died.

Jack wondered what that meant.

The intercom crackled. A man declared, “You are in violation of US law. Exit the building with your hands…”

An explosion shook the ground. 

“US military, this is Torchwood Global,” Keara said over the intercom connection. “Stand down.”

“This is US soil…”

The ground shook again. 

“You are in violation of the Biological Weapons Convention. While the League of Nations couldn’t enforce the Geneva Protocol a hundred years ago, I can and will. Whether your country signed it or not.” 

“This is Captain Jack Harkness. Torchwood is trying to save lives. Human and other,” Jack said. “The drone shields you disabled were intended to protect the creature in this building.” Pause. “From one military man to another, stand down before you get your people killed for nothing.”

“We have orders, Captain,” the man replied.

“Global, disarm them.”

A sizzling sound came over the intercom a moment before the ground shook again. 

The ear com clicked. “They’re neutered.”

“Secure this building and the climate controls.” Jack realized the creature wasn’t contained. “All surrounding water and soil needs to be monitored.”


	28. Chapter 28

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Gwen Cooper stood in front of the flat screen in Rex’s office waiting for a conversation she never expected to have. With Rex in secured quarantine, they needed an acting director. No one wanted the job. Ianto preferred to manage the hub. Jack stayed in the states. That left her. 

The new prime minister appeared on the screen. Spenser Thompson was elected to replace Bransom after a series of political problems indirectly connected to the military attack and invalid warrants against Torchwood. While it was determined she was not responsible, it destroyed her career. Unfortunately, the new PM had less favorable views of Torchwood and globalization. 

“Mrs. Williams...”

Be polite, Gwen reminded herself. “Acting Director Cooper.”

His expression said he didn’t like the correction. “Where is Director Matheson?”

“Recuperating from injuries sustained in the states.”

“That is unfortunate.” Thompson obviously didn’t care. “How will you be resolving the international incident you caused at Heathrow?”

“The incident was unfortunately necessary. The airport refused to cooperate with a safety inspection. The two people arrested were transporting dangerous cargo.”

“According to the Americans, it’s needed to treat the parasites. By confiscating the materials, and holding the affected, you,” he emphasized, “are interfering with treatment.” 

His tone reminded her of misogyny and sexual harassment accusations. “The technology and biological material offers a potential solution because it caused the problem. Both the parasites and the plane crashes.” Gwen waited a moment. “The US knew it had a serious problem long before we were brought in to evaluate a different situation. The government is actively interfering with resolving it. Despite illnesses and deaths in four countries.” 

“Where is Captain Harkness?”

Saving Americans from their government. “In the field trying to prevent an ecological disaster.”

“All the foreigners Torchwood is housing without visas need to be sent back to their countries.”

Gwen took a moment to compose her thoughts. “If we have to relocate the patients, they will go to another quarantine. They are a danger to themselves and anyone that comes in contact with them. The two New Zealanders will be transferred to the ICC as witnesses or possible suspect in a war crimes investigation.”

“You don’t have the authority to arrest or detain them.”

Was it all politicians or just English ones? Gwen wondered. “They were transporting materials that under the wrong conditions would have brought down their plane over the Atlantic. As much as we prepared for the possibility of rescuing a crashing airplane, the odds are it would have killed everyone on board.”

“It does not change the law. They committed no crime. You illegal searched and seized their cargo.”

“The cargo qualifies as a potential bioweapon and was banned for transport by numerous countries, starting with New Zealand where they boarded. They committed an international crime.” Gwen could tell she wasn’t getting through to him. “Would you like a briefing from Dr. Harper? He can explain the illnesses and cargo risk in detail.” One insufferable, egotistical arse to another.

“It will not change the foreigner situation.”

“I need official paperwork. We will make arrangements to transfer the patients to another quarantine and the suspects to the Hague.” Gwen ended the call.

After taking a few deep breaths, she tapped her ear com. “Keara.”

“I heard.” She sounded distracted. “The space station infirmary can accommodate the current patients.”

“Are you monitoring headquarter’s phones?” Gwen remembered Ianto mentioning Keara listening to phone calls trying to find Rex.

“No. Muriel Grace’s. She’s a CIA agent working out of the US embassy. She’s been coordinating with MI6 to pressure the PM. They’re blackmailing him.”

“With what?”

Keara laughed a less then pleasant sound. “He likes group sex with men and women younger than his children.”

Gwen grimaced. “Legal?”

“Yeah. Mid twenties. Generally prostitutes. Nothing involving rape or coercion.” 

“Can we destroy the evidence?” 

Several minutes passed before Keara replied. “A young woman needs to be relocated. MI6 offered her posh accommodations while she cooperates. A new name and life for her child that doesn’t involve being the PM’S bastard should work better.” Pause. “I dropped a program into the US embassy and MI6 computer systems looking for any reference to Thompson. Azrael can get photographs. If not, I can posted doctored ones on the Internet and make everything they have sound like a tabloid smear campaign.”

“You’ve done this before,” Gwen realized.

“No. The head of Torchwood where I came from had a team that handled blackmail. To keep the lovers and kids out of trouble, they were often relocated to offices in other countries. We had enough prostitutes to open a brothel.”

Gwen shook her head. From what she heard of her future daughter, she probably kept the blackmail for insurance. “How long will it take?” Spies puppeting the prime minister was bad enough without impacting an international crisis. 

“Days. To process everything. Especially the woman and child. I’m setting her up in a safe house.” Keara was silent for a few minutes. “I will notify the PM that the blackmail is being dealt with. If Grace tries anything, I have enough to expose her as a CIA agent.”

“Does Thompson know she’s involved?”

“No.” Keara explained, “He would blow her cover and make the situation worse. The CIA would retaliated.” 

Gwen wished Rex was able to handle it. She understood law enforcement not politics. 

“The basics are done.”

“Good.” Only then did she wonder why it benefited Torchwood to resolve blackmail. The answer wasn’t altruism. Keara just bought the British PM by protecting him from a scandal that would have destroyed his career. That’s why it was handled by a team. It was an ongoing process. “How will you monitor it?” Gwen doubted she wanted to know.

“Felda’s handling it. Eventually she will recruit a team for data management.”

Gwen shook her head. “Rex mentioned a new office. The Malaysian one won’t work.”

“Not for recruitment. But it will keep Jerard out of trouble for awhile.” Pause. “With the situation in Brisbane, Australia will agree to an office. Sydney has good options.”

Did you cause the drug scare? Gwen wondered. She needed to talk to the general. The last thing they needed was Torchwood getting caught manipulating governments. 

“Thompson is going to be a good boy and cooperate with the UN and ICC. It’s in everyone’s best interest, including his.”


	29. Chapter 29

** Fitch-Elmore Lake Research; Winthrop Harbor, Illinois **

John Hart teleported into the area and had a bad feeling immediately. The wooded area was completely silent. Even in the winter, there were animals. The wind off the lake rattled through the barren trees and gave him the chills. It reminded him of the horror movie comparisons. 

Annoyed with himself and the situation, he scanned the area. The plants were hibernating and would take over the area when the weather warmed, suggesting the sabotage happened last autumn. He doubted it was accidental. The readings looked more like Malaysia then the site a few hours southwest.

John tapped his ear com. “Eryn.”

“Are you all right?” She sounded worried.

“Yeah.” John explained what he found. “Can you run a plant comparison? Malaysia, Jakarta, the Pacific crash site and the creature south of here.” He wondered if someone tried to kill it or wanted it out of control.

Eryn replied a few minutes later. “That will take time.” 

“Is it contaminating the water?”

“The lake might have poisoned it. General Williams found another creature in Port Douglas north of Brisbane on the Coral Sea. It was poisoned by irradiated seaweed.”

That unfortunately fit what John knew about the plant used to create the aphrodisiac. “It’s probably not accidental.”

“Tigran thinks someone targeted his research. His ego aside, it’s possible.” Pause. “The emailed threat to Carlisle Aeronautical might have been intentionally misleading. We still don’t know who sent it.”

“What would disrupting his research accomplish? Beyond the chaos.”

Eryn sounded uncertain. “He thinks it’s to discredit his genius.”

Suggesting an underling or a competitor. Unless the person was crazy, or wanted the world to burn, it was extreme. “Was Tigran involved with manipulating Jerard?” A man using his granddaughter against his son was not the worst John had seen.

“Not directly. But the same group.” Eryn realized, “Maybe someone else is retaliating like Jerard did.”

“Another angry family member?” John hoped not. The last thing the world needed was a Sarkisian family feud.

“Before Bobby and Celeste, Luc would have said no.” She gave it a moment. “It could be another part of Beaupre’s network. The source of this appears to be the Coral Sea.”

“Find out if Tigran has a competitor in that area that someone could benefit from making them kill each other.”

“Ettie’s trying to get information out of her mother. Mariam is as secretive as Tigran is arrogant.”

John suspected if someone did target the family, they knew how difficult getting the older Sarkisians to work together would be. “Have you contacted Monty’s father?”

“I tried. Samvel is preparing his yearly lecture on the cultural and scientific value of Star Trek. When I spoke to him, he thought I was one of his students.”

John’s scanner beeped. He checked it. “There is movement in the water. Is the drone picking anything up?” 

While he waited for an answer, he used his wrist-strap to modify his hand-held scanner. Then focused it on the water. As far as he knew, it didn’t have anything larger than fish. The temperature and the ice cover made it unlikely anyone or thing living was swimming in it. 

“Eryn?”

After a few minutes, she said, “It’s a transport robot.” Pause. “We can’t scan under the ice.”

A mental list of possibilities started. “Did the general find anything off the coast of Australia?”

“He’s looking now,” Luc said over the ear com. 

“Can you send one of the bots you designed for Cardiff Bay?” John asked. They were tested off the coast of Nova Scotia.

Eryn returned. “He’s prepping it.” Pause. “Keara’s been notified. In case something needs to be destroyed.”

The ear com clicked. The distortion indicated someone farther away than Canada was joining the conversation. “Be careful,” Gwen injected. “The US government is currently screaming to whoever will listen that we’re violating their sovereignty.”

John explained the robot. 

Minutes passed before Luc spoke again. “The Coral Sea underwater tech is an environmental monitoring station.” Pause. “Initial scans from Lake Michigan show similar technology.” 

That suggested an attempt to monitor the plants. The facility in Cottage Junction showed the creatures weren’t dangerous under controlled circumstances. The people behind it probably didn’t anticipate cross contamination or industrial sabotage. 

“The creature’s contained. How are we doing this?” John didn’t want to admit it, but the area was making him increasingly uneasy.

“Unless it’s an imminent threat, we have to negotiate with the government.” Gwen sounded uncertain. “Jack, you need to come back and deal with it.”

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Torchwood picnic, Ianto Jones thought, sitting on a blanket on the garden floor. Michael and Trefor slept curled up with the dog. Anwen read a school book while picking at a piece of pizza. Ken sat between her and the boys more interested in his mobile then the food. He was worried about John. Ianto understood.

His phone rang and everyone looked at their mobiles. “Jack.” Ianto set down his pizza and picked up his phone. “Hey.” When are you coming home? He wanted to ask.

“We may have it under control.” Jack sounded apologetic. “Gwen doesn’t want Rex’s job. I’m in London. Probably until the current crisis is over.”

Ianto closed his eyes. “What about Gwen?”

“Possibly tonight. She’s coordinating with law enforcement.” Pause. “I need to go.” 

Cardiff was thankfully quiet. “Call me later.” 

Amusement crept into Jack’s voice. “And ask what you’re wearing?”

Ianto couldn’t help but smile. “I love you.”

“Love you.” The call ended.

Anwen waited a moment. “What about mum?”

Ken’s mobile rang, interrupting. He looked relieved. “John.” He connected while Anwen looked at his phone. She wasn’t happy. He connected as he stood. “Are you coming home?”

“Gwen’s still in London.”

Ken left the garden.

“John should have called me.”

The computer clicked. “Incoming call from Four.”

What now? “Accept,” Ianto said. “I’m with Anwen and the boys.”

“Did John mentioned Bobby and Celeste?” The general asked.

“No. Why?”

“Jeannette can’t handle them anymore. She’s a kid herself,” the general explained. “Eryn is willing to care for them, but Nova Scotia is understaffed.”

She wasn’t much older. “Doesn’t Bobby have anger issues?” Ianto vaguely remembered Rex talking about keeping the boy in the infirmary.

“They both do. But together, Bobby’s mellow. Celeste gets them into trouble.”

“Trefor needs someone his own age,” Anwen said. 

Ianto agreed with that much. Ideally, his sister’s daycare would be an option again. “Ken’s apartment has an extra room.” But he tended to have stress issues.

“If it doesn’t work out, they’re going to the Observatory. Monty and Ettie…”

Ianto didn’t want to picture either of them caring for kids. “It’s Ken’s decision.”


	30. Chapter 30

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Jack Harkness entered the observation room adjacent to the cell designed for dangerous aliens. Rex sat at a computer workstation documenting his experience. It offered insight they needed into the parasites. Knowing it was temporary didn’t make it easier. Jack’s experience with Bacchus meant he understood. At least Rex’s situation was easier to resolve.

Rex stood and walked over to the transparent barrier. “Did Owen tell you?”

“Yeah.” Jack didn’t think much about the immortality or the price. “You volunteered for parasite treatments.” Even if it killed Rex, it wasn’t permanent.

“It could take awhile. With the Prime Minister’s attitude, the quarantine patients need to be moved. Adding to the time it takes.”

Jack offered the best smile he could fake under the circumstances. “You wanted a vacation.”

“With Davy on a tropical beach.”

That was another problem. “Keara overheard a conversation between Muriel Grace and Langley. MI6 is trying to turn Davy into an asset.” With her family connections to Whitehall, it was impossible to resolve the security threat she posed.

Rex nodded. “She warned me.” Pause. “Tosh helped with a recorded message telling Davy I was injured and it wasn’t safe for her to visit because of the quarantine.”

Which was unfortunately true. “I’m sorry.”

Rex looked and sounded resigned. “The consequence of dating someone outside the network.” 

Networking was another conversation they needed to have. Just a very different kind. “The parasite offers another opportunity.” Jack explained what he suspected about parasites allowing communication with the plant creatures.

“There are indications of a hive mind. The medical scans show unusual brain activity while I’m hearing sounds.” Rex hesitated. “I’m documenting my symptoms and experiences prior to meeting Dr. Stone. To see if I’m influenced.”

“If it’s subtle, we might not be able to tell.”

Rex nodded. “It’s already assumed my judgment can’t be trusted. If I start demanding to be released from the testing or whatever, Owen’s instructed to kill the parasite.”

Which probably meant killing Rex. Jack understood what others couldn’t. Being dragged back to life by the universe wasn’t a pleasant experience. No matter how many times it happened, it didn’t get easier. As much as Jack hated losing the people he loved, it wasn’t something he would wish on anyone. 

“We will figure it out.”

Rex hesitated. “Coordinate director duties with your son. Don’t let it affect your marriage.”

That reminded Jack of advice he gave Gwen in the beginning. “Ianto understands.” But his anxiety wouldn’t. Phone sex jokes wouldn’t work for long. 

“When the media finds out you’re in London, rumors about your relationship will start. The tabloids will likely accuse you of having an affair with anyone they can take a picture of you taking to. It sells better than faithful family man.” Rex knew from experience.

Jack needed to talk to Ianto before that happened. It wasn’t an easy topic. His PTSD associated with the 456 involved their relationship. “Trefor and I will figure it out.” Calling the general by his first name felt weird. It made Jack think of the child rather than the adult. Rationally, he understood they were two versions of the same person. 

“Keep an eye on Davy.”

That needed to be delegated. Jack knew if he was seen with Rex’s girlfriend, the tabloids would find it irresistible. 

The ear com clicked. “Jack,” Gwen said. “The UN wants to talk to you.”

“Understood. Give me a few minutes.”

“Go.” Rex walked back to his workstation.

Jack thought about sacrifice as he took the lift to the top floor. All of them had lost friends and lovers. The stress level was escalating even during downtown. It varied by office, but there were issued in every one. They needed more people. Except it required asking others to sacrifice everything to an often thankless job that guaranteed endless stress.

The only way to fix it was to completely recreate Torchwood’s image globally. That would take significant time, effort and stress. From what the general said about the original time line, it wouldn’t happen for decades. Everyone would be burned out long before that. The more he thought about it, the less Anwen’s transformation surprised him. She gave her life for a world that destroyed itself.

Jack entered Rex office. Gwen sat behind the desk leaning on her hands. It had been that kind of day. 

“Go back to Cardiff.”

Gwen sat back. “Bobby and Celeste are at the hub. John brought them.” Pause. “How are we supposed to deal with two more kids? Anwen…” She shook her head. “Even Trefor is acting out.”

“Give him the flight simulator.”

She groaned. “He won’t do anything else.”

Because he’s bored, Jack thought. “Bribe him.”

She doesn’t like that idea.

“Bobby can hack Internet nannies and program the replicator at Four. How long before he overrides the block you have on the simulator?” Jack wondered why Anwen hadn’t done it.

Gwen set a hand over her face. “The general’s lucky I can’t ground him.”

“Spanking him is Nessa’s job. And Liam’s.” Jack laughed as Gwen grimaced.

Reluctantly, she stood. Then hesitated. “Have you talked to the general about his childhood? Anwen was more mother than…” Pause. “At some point, I stop caring about my kids?” 

“Imagine a world where we were Torchwood. No hub. No network. No Ianto. Just us.”

Gwen shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Anwen and Trefor won’t see that world. She will always be his older sister. But she won’t have to be his mother.” Jack needed to figure out how to fix it so Gwen had more time to spend with them. The three of them deserved a better life.

The computer clicked. “Incoming call from UN headquarters.”

She walked toward the door. “I don’t know how to do this alone.”

“You’re not,” Jack assured. 

“It’s easy for you. Your husband accepts your son.” 

Jack waited until she left. “Accept call.” It clicked. “This is Captain Harkness. I will be handling Matheson’s duties while he recuperates.” 

“This is the Secretary-General,” Aleksander Dabrowski said. “US Ambassador to the UN Sara Reilly is here with me.” Pause. “Your claims about what you found in the US are…”

Reilly injected, “Ridiculous.”

“Since the plant creatures don’t exist, you won’t object to Torchwood removing them?” Jack gave it a moment. “There is a large mass of poisoned plants in Winthrop Harbor. It’s the source of the parasites making people crazy and is actively contaminating Lake Michigan. Three cases in New Zealand, Australia and Papua New Guinea prove that it can be transferred between locations by exposed boats. That exposure contributed to plane crashes, contagious illnesses, injuries and death.”

Predictably, she replied. “Our scientists disagree.”

“Secretary-General,” Jack said, “The US approach to inconvenient science endangers lives.” The government’s view of climate change proved that. 


	31. Chapter 31

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

Ianto Jones carried Michael toward his office. With Jack in London, Ianto didn’t want to go back the flat. There were security concerns, but it wasn’t home without Jack.

Ianto’s mobile rang. He quickly found it. The screen said Gwen. Although unrealistic, a part of him hope it was Jack saying he was coming home. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She sounded mentally tired. “Send me the shopping lists. I’m back in Cardiff.”

That was good at least. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Yeah.” Gwen hesitated. “How’s the kid situation?”

Ianto suspected she meant hers. “They’re with John and Ken in my office.” Pause. “Trefor needs friends his own age and Anwen has more minions.” He stopped outside of range of the automated door. “Do you need personal time?”

“With my kids.”

The advantage of managing the hub. Ianto was able to spend time with Michael. “Have a family night. Three adults can handle two little kids.” 

“Yeah.”

The call ended with pleasantries. 

Ianto entered his office. Celeste sat on Anwen’s lap behind a desktop on John’s desk. The girl was talking to someone in French. John had a mini maintenance bot open on his workbench. Bobby sat in the flight simulator. Trefor was trying to explain how it worked. 

Ken turned. “They needed something to do.”

“No.” Trefor sounded frustrated, motioning at something on the screen. “You have to watch that.”

Ken lowered his voice and motioned Ianto toward his desk. “Bobby was stressed. He’s old enough to understand he’s been relocated. More than once. Because he’s difficult.”

The simulated plane crashed again.

“Let me show you,” Trefor said. The boys moved.

Ianto kissed the top of Michael’s head. “We’re better equipped for kids.”

Ken nodded. “John said they need punching bags.”

“Did he explain the anger issues?” Ianto knew the basics. Luc, Bobby’s half brother, was incredibly strong and needed a specially designed punching bag in a reinforced gym to redirect his anger.

“Somewhat.” Ken’s expression and tone said he didn’t understand.

“They have a genetic predisposition to supernatural rage.”

“Comparable to what John went through when he developed the ability to teleport?”

Ianto didn’t know to explain. He didn’t understand what he went through. “Comparable safety concerns. Celeste’s father can teleport. Bobby’s half brother used a manifestation of his rage to hold off US and Canadian military groups in Nova Scotia.” Even after his own experiences it difficult to process.

That took Ken a moment. “Rather than blue energy, it’s red.”

“Yeah.” 

Ken realized, “The girl John identified in the tunnel.”

Ianto nodded. “Bobby hasn’t had extreme behavior since he met Celeste. He gets frustrated and angry like any kid. But not the extreme aggression.” He hoped the ancients leaving helped. 

Celeste swears loudly at her father in French. The tone not the words was obvious.

“How much English does she understand?” Ken asked after a moment.

“If she learns as fast as her father thinks she does, she understands us.” Ianto’s immediate concern was they didn’t understand her.

** Dream **

By request, John Hart recreated the memory of Winthrop Harbor for a shared-dream. The memory made him uneasy. There wasn’t much that scared him. Between the Time Agency and Torchwood, he had faced typical fears and his own instability. A psychotic plant shouldn’t have a lasting effect.

His Anwen appeared much as she had in life. She even chose the clothes she would have worn if she physically went to investigate a case. That was Torchwood. It was a life-long devotion for most. No matter what happened, they couldn’t shut it off. When bad things happened, they shook it off and kept working.

“Since when do you judge people for being obsessive?” Anwen crouched down looking at the ground.

John walked over and set a hand on her shoulder. “Why are we here?”

“I spoke to Keara. This sounded familiar.” She stood. 

“You gave yourself away trying to reprogram the network?”

Anwen set a hand on his. “She already suspected.” 

“What?”

“There was a situation like this in Chile after I joined Torchwood officially. I saw pictures. I don’t remember parasites. But a shipwreck off the coast of a national park was salvaged. The crew shipwrecked. Crazy behavior. Jack went because there was a suspected contagion.” Anwen shook her head. “I don’t remember the specifics. It wasn’t my case. But I remember a PR problem caused by violating a victim’s religious beliefs. Jack incinerated the shipwreck, salvage ship, all the bodies and everything biological for a sizable area. He then sent in maintenance bots to irradiate the soil.” Pause. “It took years to repair the ecological damage.”

“Did he mention a terraforming probe or a trash planet?”

Anwen turned toward John. “Both.”

He needed to look up the Global files. That extreme a response suggested something they hadn’t seen yet. 

“I need to go with you on investigations.”

John didn’t want to risk anything happening to her. “Darling…”

“You would have known sooner.”

“I can’t lose you again.” He set his forehead against hers.

After a moment, she tilted her head and kissed him. The dream shifted around them to her flat at future Torchwood London. 

“John,” young Anwen’s worried voice intruded. “Wake up.”

** Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales **

When John entered the rifle range, he found Anwen sitting with her back to the partial wall between the entryway and the range. A loud thud shook the reinforced room. 

“Which one?” He asked quietly, assuming it had to be one of the Sarkisians. 

She motioned with her hand for him to get down. “Bobby,” she whispered. “He’s jealous.” She sympathized. “Celeste’s dad is worried. About her. The general sent all of her stuff. Most of their stuff he designed for her.”

John crouched next to Anwen as another thud sounded. He wondered what the kid was hitting.

“With Uncle Jack worried about Trefor, he has lots of cool stuff.”

Thud.

“Luc doesn’t talk to him?”

“Eryn does some. Bobby’s not old enough to understand his brother is busy and stressed.” Anwen held out her hands. “It’s different for Luc than Jerard.”

Thud.

His Anwen injected,  The boy needs a dad .

“He likes to build stuff,” the younger Anwen said. “You taught me how to repair maintenance bots.”

No one else would suggest he try parenting. He had no idea what to do.

Talk to him. You conquered your demons. You can help him fight his.


	32. Chapter 32

** Former Mission; Recreational Forest Bukit Lagong, Malaysia **

Living at the Fellowship, then the Refuge and finally Torchwood Nigeria taught the youngest Keara Montfert about psychics. She started with no ability and found out she was one of the most powerful on the planet. Different psychics talked about the price of seeing the future and she didn’t understand. She couldn’t. Until she did.

Standing in the first rays of sunlight filtering through the rain forest and the glass-less window, listening to the maintenance bot rumble behind her, she knew beyond a doubt she had to stay. Jerard was vulnerable if she left. Not only from his father’s group but the soldier version of herself and Torchwood. She didn’t need to be a psychic to know how much it would hurt.

Her inability to have sex meant sooner or later, he would find companionship. Somehow she had to accept that. Knowing it would end badly at some point meant working through her issues was unlikely. She wondered for the first time if her ability caused the problem.

The images flickered through her mind. Somehow she knew the soldier wasn’t manipulating her. Previous Keara hadn’t been sure. But now she was. Her ability was strengthened by emotion. She suspected she’d fallen in love with him. An impossible situation. Protecting him meant keeping secrets knowing he probably wouldn’t forgive her for when he found out.

“Are you staying?” Jerard walked up behind her and set a hand on the small of her back.

“Yeah.” Unable to fake a smile, she allowed her exhaustion to show. She was mentally and physically tired.

“I won’t expect anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

Keara was grateful for that. She turned and leaned against him. He loosely wrapped an arm around her. She pressed her face to his shoulder and hugged him. The contact increased the connection. He knew something was wrong but didn’t know what to ask.

“After we’re settled,” and the facility is under control, “We can explore Kuala Lampur.”

She focused on a happy future image. “There’s a restaurant with really good French food.” They would enjoy it. Hopefully by then she would lose herself in the good and forget the bad.

“More visions?”

“Yeah. It’s a blur.”

Jerard didn’t know what to say that either. He kissed the top of her head. “Time to sleep, Fraulein Igor. We have another long day ahead of us.”

Keara nodded. 

** Torchwood London; London, England **

Jack Harkness lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, in Rex’s flat. After the long, stressful day, he expected to sleep. Crazy situations and different timezones often meant he and Ianto sometimes slept different hours. But it the first time they’d been apart, for reasons other than Bacchus, in more than two-and-a-half years. 

I hope you were able to sleep, Jack thought. He raised his hand, running his thumb over the ring fused to his ring finger. 

His mobile rang on the coffee table. He reached over and grabbed it. “Miss me?”

“Always.” Ianto sounded tired. “Bobby had a rough night.” He explained what happened on the rifle range.

Jack sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the sofa. “What set him off?”

“Feeling left out. John patched the kid up in the infirmary and then talked maintenance bots. They fell asleep in the maintenance section.”

Jack figured Anwen set that up. “How’s Celeste?”

“Self-absorbed.” Pause. “She likes being a spoiled princess.” Ianto sighed. “I needed to hear your voice.”

Jack smiled. “The hub’s not the same without me.” He could picture Ianto rolling his eyes. 

“It’s too quiet.”

“And boring. You have to shower alone.” Jack expected Ianto to groan.

Instead he switched the phone to speaker. “Michael’s asking for you.”

“Jack. Home.”

The baby had a new word. It was hard to believe he was over a year-old. “Soon,” he hoped.

“Gwen’s not sounding good. I spoke to Rhys briefly about logistics. He’s getting more belligerent.” Ianto gave it a moment. “I don’t know how much longer she’s got before I have to call Bree.” He hesitated. “Did she have PTSD while she was pregnant with Trefor?”

“Not exactly. It was guilt and shame.” Jack went through something similar himself. Rationally, he knew he had no control. They were both drugged. But it didn’t matter. “If she’s regressing, she needs to go back to her therapist. Or call Lacene if it needs to stay in-house. Bree can’t handle anything Torchwood-related.” 

“Lacene?” Ianto obviously disagreed. “Jack, we need you here. Not just me and Michael.”

Jack nodded, wondering if he could commute. “Once the situation in the US is resolved, I will come home. I don’t know how long I can stay.” London was a full-time job.

“Keara on the station is talking about recruiting people that worked for future Torchwood. Applications might work for clerical. But how many core people right now were hired for reasons outside of Torchwood situations? Even in London, Langford is at least second generation. CeCe was recommended by Lacene. Nigeria is full of psychics. Four, Atmore, Tangled Briers. Now Malaysia.”

Psychics, ancient abilities and time travel. Jack realized, “Azrael could help recruit.” He established the Fellowship before it was Torchwood Nigeria and coordinated management of Tangled Briers. Rather than ask more from Nigeria, Jack needed to ask for a stable psychic with recruitment experience. The criteria was different but it required the same skills. 

That idea stayed with Jack as he prepared for the day. When Ianto called him back and ask if he had fresh clothes and then sent them by maintenance bot with a port device, Jack knew the situation was ridiculous. Unfortunately, even with recruitment, he and the general had to manage London. That probably meant asking his son to impersonate him. Not the best approach.

The computer clicked as Jack stood in the kitchen drinking coffee. “Are we expecting someone from Nigeria?” Langford sounded confused. Anyone who didn’t know his parents might believe the dutiful butler routine. 

Thanks to Bacchus, Jack remembered Derrian in detail. Both the good and bad. “Possibly.” Keara on the station might have anticipated the request or seen it. There was a joke in needing to request a psychic and having one show up instead.

“I will show him to the office.”


End file.
